


A Time to Keep

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam struggles to return to normal after her kidnapping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally started out as yet another attempt to write Denise a nice post-Desperate Measures comfort fic. Somewhere along the way, it turned into something more than just a H/C-smut fic. Many thanks to Nancy, for encouraging me to try something different and taking a chance with my OC's. Wendy and Linz, I'd be lost without your support, insight and excellent suggestions. And Denise, three is supposed to be the magic number—if I haven't hit it with number three, I don't think I ever will! And just for the record, the title is taken from Ecclesiastes 3:6.
> 
> Season Five; originally posted May 2003.

A TIME TO KEEP

 

Daniel watched as the ambulance drove off. Thank goodness Jack had been wearing a vest! And if Jack's very vocal complaining as he was being wheeled into the ambulance was any indication, the wound to his arm wasn't that serious. Of course, who had shot him was still a mystery. Pulling his jacket tighter against the light rain that had started to fall, Daniel's attention was attracted by a sudden commotion at the rear entrance of the abandoned hospital. Two men—both wearing white lab coats—were being escorted, none too gently, to a waiting police car. One of the men was very subdued, keeping his head down. The other, more rotund man with glasses, was loudly complaining. Daniel couldn't hear all the man's shrill words; but a few like 'lawyer', 'false arrest' and 'haven't done anything wrong' rang out clearly. 

 

Daniel just shook his head. He surmised that the two men were the doctors who had been caring for Conrad and studying Sam. Daniel had encountered much evil in his life, but it still amazed him that self-professed physicians—healers—would deliberately set out to harm anyone! Daniel started looking around for Sam, when he realized something was else happening with the prisoners. One of them had managed to break free and Daniel watched in stunned amazement as he started running across the parking lot—towards him! Quickly looking around, Daniel belatedly realized he wasn't the man's target, Sam was and she was currently standing alone by the remaining ambulance.

 

Confusion seemed to reign. Daniel started running towards Sam; several officers were chasing after the doctor, yelling at him to stop. They had their guns drawn, but there were so many people around—himself included—that Daniel hoped they wouldn't fire. The escaped man was yelling as well, his voice high and shrill above the others. "I'm not finished with you yet! I'll have you! You're mine! You're mine!"

 

Daniel reached Sam moments ahead of the escaped doctor and the police. "Sam," he panted. She just stood there, her eyes wide with alarm, and much to his surprise, made no effort to escape. Pulling her to him, Daniel dragged her around the side of the ambulance, shielding her with his body. He heard the doctor's scream of frustrated rage as they disappeared around the side of the vehicle. Propping Sam up against the side of the ambulance, Daniel drew his zat and waited. There was a flurry of movement and sound, and Daniel braced to fire when the white-coated man suddenly flew to the ground in front of them, two officers having tackled him. 

 

The man was quickly subdued, laying face down on the wet asphalt, now sobbing softly instead of yelling, while the officers roughly handcuffed him. Daniel wondered with growing anger, why the man hadn't been handcuffed when he was brought out of the building and opened his mouth to ask why, when he suddenly heard what the man was repeating over and over--"She's mine, she's mine". Daniel shuddered, his mind suddenly filled with grim images of what had almost happened to Sam at the hands of this 'doctor'. Oh god, Sam! Daniel whipped around, she was still standing where he'd placed her, shivering and wrapped in a flimsy blanket that was meager protection from the rain, her face stricken as she watched them haul their still sobbing prisoner away.

 

"Sam," he said softly and her eyes jerked to his, her features unexpectedly crumpling as she gasped his name, holding out a trembling hand to him. Two steps brought him to her side and he pulled her unresisting body into his arms. Holding her tightly, he slowly swayed back and forth, murmuring soothing words and trying to calm her. He never heard her cry and after long moments she finally stopped shivering, until only the occasional tremor racked her slender frame. Pulling back, Daniel looked her over carefully. She was pale—but composed, her eyes shadowed. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

 

"Yes," she whispered and shivered again. "He just...startled me." 

 

Daniel knew there was more to it than just her being 'startled', he had heard the man's words and Sam had as well, and he recognized obsession when he saw it. But he didn't say anything more, simply pulled the blanket a bit tighter around her shoulders. "We need to get you out of the rain," he said, brushing her now dripping bangs off her forehead. 

 

Daniel looked quickly around, there had to be an EMT somewhere to go along with this ambulance. All the activity however, was currently concentrated around the squad cars now holding the two prisoners. "Let me go find someone," Daniel told Sam. "Don't move," he cautioned her with a smile. She nodded and he left her standing next to the ambulance. 

 

Striding quickly over to one of the police men who wasn't involved with the prisoners, Daniel asked, "Seen any of the EMT's?" The man didn't say anything, merely pointed back the way Daniel had come. 

 

Good, one of the EMT's had turned up and had evidently already spotted Sam, since he walked over to her and held out a hand towards her. Daniel's relief turned to confusion though, when instead of going with the man, Sam started backing away, a panicked look on her face. Even from a distance, Daniel could see the alarm on her features. Dammit, he shouldn't have left! Muttering a quick thanks to the officer, Daniel headed back to Sam.

 

"No, I'm fine." Her quivering voice carried to him clearly across the parking lot.

 

"Ma'am, please...you need to come with me." The EMT kept inching closer to Sam and she kept backing away.

 

"No!"

 

Daniel jogged the last few yards to where Sam and the man stood, the fear in her voice hurrying his steps. When he got there, Sam was backed up against the side of the ambulance, holding the blanket tightly around her, her knuckles white, her eyes looking wild with her wet hair hanging down in them and the rain tracking down her face in tiny rivulets. 

 

The EMT was just reaching out to take hold of her arm, when Daniel insinuated himself between the man and Sam. Holding out a hand to the man, who nodded and thankfully backed off, Daniel turned towards Sam. Keeping his voice low and calm, he asked, "It's okay, Sam. He just wants to help you."

 

"Daniel," she whispered raggedly. The look of pathetic relief that filled her face tore at his heart. "Tell them I'm okay." She shivered slightly, "Tell them I don't need to go with them."

 

"Sam," he chose his words carefully, "you're soaking wet. We need to get you some place warm and dry. We need to check on Jack, too." At the mention of O'Neill, her eyes finally focussed on him. A movement to his side alerted Daniel that Teal'c had finally finished whatever he'd been doing and joined them. Sam still didn't look convinced, however. "Teal'c will go with you, okay?" Her eyes flashed over his shoulder then and she slowly nodded. Standing back, Daniel breathed a sigh of relief when the EMT continued to stand aside while Teal'c carefully approached Sam.

 

"Come with me, Major Carter."

 

Looking less wary, she let Teal'c take her arm and lead her to the back entrance of the ambulance. Daniel frowned. Sam's behavior was worrisome and he sincerely hoped it was only a delayed reaction to her kidnapping and whatever had been done to her. And while she didn't look too bad physically, who knew what had happened to her psychologically. He had to think it was a good sign though, that she'd managed to keep it together during her rescue and Jack's subsequent shooting. Not to mention the most recent incident with the obsessed doctor. But, it was still not like Sam to lose it over something as minor as going with the EMT. Hearing the engine of the ambulance start up, Daniel rushed over to their rental car, preparing to follow the ambulance to the hospital. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel arrived at the hospital shortly after the ambulance, however it took him long minutes to find a parking place. Finally making it to the emergency room, he saw Teal'c standing in the small waiting room. "Where's Sam?"

 

Teal'c inclined his head towards a set of closed doors. "They have taken Major Carter to be examined."

 

"She was okay?" 

 

Teal'c merely nodded.

 

"Ah, good." Daniel stared at the closed doors, wondering if he dared to ignore the 'Do Not Enter' sign emblazoned across them. "And Jack?"

 

"O'Neill is being examined, as well."

 

One of the doors swung open then and a young woman wearing scrubs poked her head out. "Is there a Murray here?"

 

Daniel smiled at the look of pained resignation that crossed Teal'c's face. Teal'c merely nodded. "I am...Murray."

 

"Ah, good. Colonel O'Neill would like to see you." Teal'c nodded again and the woman held the door open for him. 

 

"I'll just wait here--" Daniel started, only to have his voice drowned out by a loud clatter from beyond the entrance to the exam rooms and then the terrified voice of a woman.

 

"No! Stay away from me!"

 

Shit...it was Sam! Daniel followed quickly behind the nurse and Teal'c, the sound of raised male voices and Sam's distraught entreaties guiding them to an end room. All three paused at the entrance to the room. Sam was backed into the far corner—her eyes wild and panicked. It looked initially like the room was crowded, but it soon sorted out to three men, one in a white lab coat holding some kind of syringe and two dressed in scrubs, all advancing on Sam. 

 

"Daniel! Murray!" Jack's voice bellowed out from one of the other rooms. "What the hell's going on out there?"

 

Daniel figured he needed to something fast, before the situation got any more out of control than it already was. Placing a hand on Teal'c's arm he told the Jaffa, "Go check on Jack. I'll take care of Sam." Teal'c didn't look pleased, but inclined his head in agreement and Daniel turned back to the room where Sam cowered in the corner. 

 

Stepping cautiously into the room, one of the men in scrubs turned towards him, a frown on his face. "Celia," he called, "get him out of here!" 

 

"Sir." The woman grabbed his arm, but Daniel shook it off. 

 

"No," he said quietly and firmly, keeping his eyes on Sam and advancing further into the room. "I can help her." The three men in the room looked skeptical, especially lab coat, but after one quick look at Sam, he backed off.

 

"Sam," he held his hands out at his sides, palms out. "It's me, Daniel." She looked at him, and even though she was dryer than she had been earlier, her eyes were still wild, her hair damp and sticking out all over her head. She nodded but continued her defensive posture. 

 

"Daniel, tell them I'm okay. I don't need any blood tests and I don't need anything to 'calm' me down." Her voice had started out firm, yet by the time she finished with the last words, she was pleading and he could see the faint sheen of tears in her eyes. 

 

"I'll tell them, Sam," he told her, his voice soft and comforting. Holding out his right hand to her now, he continued soothingly, "Let me help you." His eyes pleaded with her and he felt a surge of relief when she held out her right arm to him. He couldn't stop the gasp of horror that escaped him though, when he saw her arm, the bruises and red marks, the tracks from countless needles. She froze then, her face momentarily stricken before it crumpled and she started to cry. Large, silent tears that flowed down her face while she slowly sank to the floor. 

 

"Sam," Daniel murmured worriedly, crossing the few feet needed to reach her and kneeling down next to her, he pulled her into his arms. "It's okay," he crooned softly to her, stroking her hair, "It's okay."

 

"Shit! Daniel?" 

 

Sam stiffened in his arms at the sound of O'Neill's voice. Daniel fastened one hand firmly on the back of her head, and turned slightly, shielding her as much as he could from the two men standing in the doorway. 

 

"Everything's okay, Jack." He looked pointedly at the other man, a nurse hovering agitatedly at his side. "Shouldn't you be getting...stitched up or something?"

 

"Yeah, well...I heard Carter and...." Jack's voice trailed off, his eyes filled with pain and uncertainty as he looked into the room. Daniel suddenly felt sorry for the older man. 

 

"She'll be okay, Jack." And Daniel sincerely hoped he wasn't lying. He could still feel her tears against his neck, her too-thin body trembling almost uncontrollably against him. "I'll take care of her." Jack slowly nodded and Daniel knew the wealth of emotion hidden in that simple motion, because he could take care of her right now—when Jack couldn't. With one last look, Jack finally went with the anxious nurse. 

 

"Can you get up?" he whispered to Sam. She nodded and he slowly stood, pulling her with him. Keeping his arm protectively around her, he urged her over to the gurney. "Will you let them examine you?" he asked, helping her to sit on the thin mattress of the cart. She nodded, but when he would have moved away, she grabbed his hand. 

 

The man in the lab coat carefully approached them. "I just want to listen to your heart, your lungs, check your blood pressure, draw some blood." 

 

She shuddered then, looking away and Daniel quickly interjected, "Is the blood work really necessary?"

 

"No, I suppose it isn't vital," the doctor admitted, albeit reluctantly, Daniel decided.

 

"No blood work, Sam, okay?" She nodded, but didn't let go of his hand while the doctor completed his brief exam. 

 

Frowning, the doctor left the room with a brief, "Wait here."

 

"Like we'll go anywhere," Daniel muttered, delighted when Sam smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but at least she smiled. "Better?" he asked, squeezing the hand he still held gently.

 

"Yes," she looked away, seeming somewhat embarrassed, but then looked at him straight on. "I'm sorry for...losing control, like that."

 

"It's okay, Sam. I think everyone here understands that."

 

"Even the Colonel?"

 

He brushed her straggly bangs back off her forehead. "Yeah, I think even Jack understands that."

 

She smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes. The brief moment was lost however, by the return of the doctor. He merely stood in the doorway and gestured to Daniel. "I'll be right back, okay?" Her smile faded when she looked at the doctor, but she nodded and released his hand. 

 

Walking to the door, Daniel followed the doctor out into the hallway. The other man stopped a few doors down from where Sam waited and spoke quietly. "I've spoken to Major Carter's personal physician, who recommends returning both Colonel O'Neill and the major back to Colorado Springs immediately. And while I'm not happy with her recommendation, considering the circumstances of Major Carter's recent experience, but...Colonel O'Neill's injuries are relatively minor, so I agreed." Daniel nodded, relieved that they would all be leaving Seattle soon, when the doctor continued. "However, her heart rate is way too fast and her blood pressure elevated. I suggested, and Doctor Fraiser agreed with me—especially given Major Carter's behavior here—that she will benefit from some kind of mild sedation, just to get her back home."

 

Daniel frowned, what the doctor said did make a weird kind of sense. Sam was still pretty strung out, and if Janet agreed.... There was just one small point. "I don't really think she'll let you give her anything."

 

"We can give her a fast acting sedative, that will also last for several hours, as a liquid. She just has to drink something."

 

Okay, he was getting the picture now. "And you want me to help you?"

 

"You're about the only one she seems to trust right now."

 

Well, the doctor had him there and Daniel reluctantly had to agree with his assessment of the situation. "Ah..." he took off his glasses, rubbing his suddenly very tired eyes. "Let me go talk to her for a minute, okay?"

 

Daniel left the doctor in the corridor, and went back to see Sam. She sat cross-legged on the gurney, staring down into her lap. She looked up when he came in, her eyes still reflecting a lingering fear. "Hey," he greeted her.

 

She smiled slightly, but didn't say anything. He stopped right in front of her. "Janet wants you and Jack back at the SGC." 

 

"That's good," she whispered.

 

"You feel up to the trip?"

 

"I just want to go home, Daniel."

 

"Okay, let me find out the details. You'll be okay, here?" He looked around at all the various medical equipment in the room. "I don't think I can use my cell here." 

 

He started towards the door, only to be stopped by Sam's tentative voice. "Daniel?" 

 

"Yes?"

 

She looked down at herself, plucking at the material of her scrub pants. "I need some clothes."

 

"I'll see what I can do." He patted her knee reassuringly and went in search of Teal'c and some safe place to use his cell.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Darkness had fallen when two hours later, Daniel and Teal'c were finally bundling her and Jack out of the rental car and onto the tarmac at the private jet terminal at SeaTac. Sam still wasn't sure how Hammond had arranged it, but a small Learjet with USAF markings, was waiting for them. She had heard about these jets, but had never actually been on one. They were usually used for ferrying politicians and the upper echelon around, not lowly majors—or colonels, for that matter. It was still raining, and while the sweat pants and sweatshirt Teal'c had bought for her at a nearby Wal-Mart were better than the scrubs she'd been wearing, she was still chilled to the bone. Sam stood listlessly by the car while Daniel handed over the car keys to a waiting airman, wondering if she'd ever be warm again.

 

"Come on, Sam." Daniel again, taking her arm and coaxing her towards the plane. Teal'c already had the Colonel at the stairs, unobtrusively helping him. She let Daniel lead her to the plane and up the stairs. She just didn't have the energy right now to do much of anything, and the rather fuzzy feeling she had, much like how she felt when she'd had one too many glasses of wine, made her think that they'd spiked the orange juice Daniel had insisted she drink. Sam couldn't find the energy to hold it against him—or the staff at the hospital; she had been fairly out of control. She just had to believe if she could just get home, everything would be okay.

 

Finally onboard the small plane, Sam looked around curiously. Surprisingly spacious, with a single row of four plush leather seats down the right side of the plane; the left side had two leather seats toward the front of the aircraft, then a sofa and finally what looked like a small galley. Teal'c had already settled the Colonel into one of the chairs toward the middle of the plane, he looked pale, tired and there were grim lines etched around his mouth from what she imagined was the pain. He glanced at her and smiled when she walked by, but she averted eyes, not wanting him to see the guilt that had suddenly flooded through her, because if it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have gotten shot. Sam let Daniel direct her to one of the seats at the back of the plane, glad she would be away from her teammates' all too knowing eyes. Grateful to be sitting down again, as her legs were unexpectedly shaky, she buckled her seatbelt and closed her eyes. She was vaguely aware of Daniel and Teal'c taking seats in front of her, talking quietly, and then the gentle hum of the engines as the plane started to taxi. 

 

Sam finally started to relax once she felt the plane take off. They'd be home soon...and everything would be okay. She could try and erase the last week from her memory. Drifting into a light doze, she was dimly away when someone, Teal'c, she thought, covered her with a light coverlet. She was finally starting to feel warm...and safe, isolated as they were on this plane, surrounded by her team. And while part of knew she couldn't depend on isolation and her teammates to provide her a feeling of security once they reached the SGC, for now she could.

 

Shifting restlessly, Sam curled up a bit more in the large seat when she felt the movement of the plane change, starting its descent. She supposed she should start waking up, idly wondering what time it was. Her internal clock was incredibly screwed up, thanks to her kidnapping and prolonged periods of drugged unconsciousness. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw that the cabin lights were still low and she could hear the conversation being carried on between the men. 

 

"So, what the hell happened back there at the hospital, Daniel?"

 

The Colonel, he sounded annoyed. Sam closed her eyes, not really sure she wanted to hear what was said in reply to that question, but too curious to stop listening and reveal that she was awake.

 

"Ah, I think the whole situation finally caught up with Sam." Daniel answered and it sounded tactful and reasonable, even to her. 

 

"Her weakened condition along with a latent fear of medical personnel caused her unexpected panic." Teal'c, precisely summing up her response, again sounding perfectly reasonable.

 

"See, that's what I don't get." O'Neill's confused voice this time. "She was just fine when I rescued her and when we went hunting for Conrad."

 

"Yeah, well Jack, you told me yourself that she was moments away from certain death at the hands of those two doctors when you rescued her. I'd say she had a fair amount of adrenaline running through her system then. Enough to counteract the effects of the drugs and her debilitated state."

 

"Debilitated state?"

 

"Don't be dense, Jack. She's been gone, for how long? Over a week? And from the looks of where they held her, food and exercise and 'taking care' of her hadn't been high on their priority list." Sam could hear the annoyance in Daniel's voice and was mildly surprised by his sudden defense. "Did you see her arms, Jack? Did you see how much thinner she is?"

 

Sam hugged the coverlet closer at Daniel's words. When Daniel had asked her what size clothing to get, she had automatically told him 'medium'. It was only when she'd put the sweats on that she'd realized how much weight she had lost. Oh, maybe not more than ten pounds...but enough to be noticeable...if you looked closely. And Daniel was right, both her arms were a mess. She was a mess. The only thing that had kept her going when the Colonel had rescued her was his utter faith and confidence in her to get the job done. She'd been able to push aside her fear and forced her trembling legs to follow after him. And then he'd gotten shot...yet another instance when she'd failed him. 

 

"Yeah, Daniel, I saw her arms. What's your point?"

 

Even though she couldn't see Daniel, she could clearly envision the look on his face and his posture when he answered. "My point is, Sam has been held captive and experimented on for well over a week. And then when we come to 'rescue' her, instead of taking care of her—she's forced to go chase after her captor." She shivered at Daniel's words, she knew she'd be seeing those two doctors faces for months in her dreams. Especially 'glasses', her way of separating their identities. 'Glasses' had been even scarier than his colleague had been, even more so after what had happened in the parking lot when they were taking him away. Given his obsession with finding out how she had survived Jolinar, she knew she'd been incredibly lucky that they'd found her in time.

 

"Daniel..."

 

Sam recognized the warning in the Colonel's voice, and she knew Daniel did too, but wouldn't care. "Jack, if you think Sam is going to magically be okay after all of this--"

 

"Daniel!" The Colonel interrupted, still keeping his voice quiet, "Carter's a good soldier, she'll be fine—she always is."

 

If she had been stronger, she would have escaped, she would have fought off her initial attackers and none of this would have happened. If she'd been stronger, quicker, smarter she wouldn't have put her team through the trauma of the last week. Sam took a shuddering breath, trying to keep the sudden tears from falling. Sam could hear the echo of her father in the Colonels' words, whenever she'd been hurt, or cried..."Be a good soldier, Sam, that's my girl--you'll be fine". And she'd force her tears back inside and be the good soldier for her daddy...just the same way she'd be a good soldier for O'Neill. No matter what it cost her on the inside. 

 

Belatedly deciding she'd heard too much, she spoke up softly, "Hey, guys." Opening her eyes, she sat up. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her--open concern and sympathy in Daniel's, subdued empathy from Teal'c and somber speculation from the Colonel. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Is he really hurt that bad, Janet?" 

 

Janet looked up at the sound of Sam's voice, the other woman standing in the doorway to her cluttered office. It had been two hours since Janet had released Sam from the infirmary...she was supposed to have gone home. Of course, Janet acknowledged a bit too late, she should have known Sam wouldn't leave until she'd had an update on O'Neill's condition. Janet sighed, some things never changed. 

 

Closing the chart she was updating, she answered Sam. "No...he just needs a couple doses of IV antibiotics and then I'll release him. The worst thing is going to be the pain from where the bullet impacted his vest. But an anti-inflammatory will work fine for that." Janet nodded towards the large ward, just visible outside her office. "Go see for yourself."

 

"I ah..." Sam looked flustered for a moment, her eyes flashing nervously from the doctor to the infirmary. 

 

"I'm sure he'd like to see you, Sam." When Sam still looked uncertain, Janet added, "Hammond's in there."

 

Sam seemed to relax a bit when she learned that Hammond was there as well and nodded her assent. Janet watched her friend leave, sadly aware that the chipper behavior Sam was displaying for her benefit was just that--a display. Against her better judgement, Janet had allowed Sam to convince her to not hold her in the infirmary. After her conversation with Daniel, and the report from the ER physician in Seattle, Janet had to reluctantly acknowledge that being in the infirmary wasn't probably the best thing for Sam--too many bad memories right now. And while Sam would have to deal with what had happened sooner or later, Janet decided she could allow her some time and let it be later. Opening another chart, Janet started writing an update on O'Neill's already voluminous medical record.

 

"Doctor!"

 

Hammond's voice was urgent and Janet jumped to her feet, racing out of the office, looking around frantically for what had alarmed the General. 

 

"What's going on?" That from O'Neill, who looked like he was going to hop out of the bed, IV and all!

 

"You, stay put," she ordered. 

 

"Doctor!" Hammond's voice again, from out in the hallway. 

 

Hurrying out into the hall, Janet stopped dead in her tracks when she saw General Hammond, kneeling on the floor and cradling an obviously unconscious Sam Carter in his arms. "Matthews!" she called to the orderly on duty, "get me a cart!" Kneeling down next to the unconscious woman, she unconsciously held her breath, feeling for Sam's carotid pulse. Her fingers palpated the silent woman's pale neck--faint and racing--but there. Matthews finally appeared, this time with several SF's and between the four of them, they lifted Sam onto the cart and wheeled her back into the infirmary.

 

"What happened? What's the matter with Carter?" O'Neill again. Janet pulled the curtain around his bed and ignored him. She hoped O'Neill had enough sense to shut up and let her examine Sam, then they all could know what had happened. Shooing the General away as well, Janet put her stethoscope in her ears and bent over Sam's lax body. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Oh god, she felt awful, her head was pounding and her mouth had that cotton wool taste that just wouldn't go away! But she wasn't tied down, this was her chance! Opening her eyes, Sam tried to focus against the harsh light and belatedly realized she recognized where she was, the infirmary at the SGC and not the room at the abandoned hospital in Seattle. Relaxing a bit, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She was safe, she was home, and it was all going to be okay. Which didn't explain why she had woken up in the infirmary when the last thing she remembered was walking out into the corridor with General Hammond. God, she must've passed out, in front of the General! She closed her eyes again, just when she thought things could only get better, she fainted in front of Hammond. 

 

She almost felt like crying, it had taken a lot of convincing to get Janet to discharge her, and then she had to go and do something like this! And O'Neill had to have seen too...when they wheeled her unconscious into the infirmary. She needed to show them she was strong...not the weak link in the team. Too much had happened the last few months that shouldn't have happened, that she had let happen. This was the second time in recent memory that she'd almost gotten the Colonel killed. She was just so tired...and all she really wanted to do was go home and sleep in her own bed, in her comfy pajamas and just hide from the world.

 

Raising herself up on one elbow, Sam looked around for the call button that had to be somewhere close at hand. Thankfully, the curtains were pulled around her bed, but she could hear the soft footsteps of the nursing staff and the faint murmur of voices. Finally locating the call button, she started to press it, but the sound of footsteps pausing right outside her curtained off area stopped her. She lay back down, confident someone was coming to check on her, only mildly curious when she heard Daniel's voice.

 

"How is she?"

 

Sam's ears perked up when she heard Janet. "Not as well as I thought."

 

Oh crap...Sam tried to calm her suddenly pounding heart, straining to hear what Janet said next. Sam could almost hear the exasperation in Janet's voice. "Her heart rate is way too fast, her blood pressure too low. Her blood chemistry is totally out of whack. The toxicology panels won't be back for several days. Who knows what they gave her? Those two doctors," Janet spat out the word, Sam noted, feeling pleased, "won't say anything about what they did to her." 

 

"So, what do we do?"

 

"Well, obviously there are going to be some physical ramifications to Sam's kidnapping that we're going to need to deal with." Sam heard Janet's soft sigh, her heart sinking with the doctor's next words. "But it's the psychological I'm worried about. I don't need to tell you that Sam has been under considerable stress the last few months. That she's managed to keep working as well as she has, is a testament to her self-control. I'm worried that this kidnapping and experimentation may be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

 

Sam closed her eyes, Janet's words washing over her, and she couldn't deny the doctor's eerily accurate assessment. She was on the edge--literally and figuratively. She had failed her team, and even more, she had failed Jack on a regular basis lately. What good was she to anybody when she couldn't do her job?

 

This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that she'd eavesdropped on her friends...and that old chestnut was right, listeners never hear good of themselves. She was tired, she was scared, but not of being kidnapped again or experimented on or anything like that! She was scared that her actions and major screw-ups would alienate her team--and the Colonel--to the point where they merely tolerated her presence. No matter how good she did her job and how many problems she solved, she still had to be better than everybody else to prove her worth. And the Colonel...his opinion mattered more to her than she felt comfortable acknowledging. 

 

"I never should have discharged her." The frustration in Janet's voice warned Sam that she was going to get one hell of a lecture from her doctor.

 

"She just wants to go home, Janet. Wouldn't you, if you were in her position?" Daniel's voice was calm and reassuring. 

 

Sam held her breath, waiting for Janet's reply. It was a while in coming and Sam had given up hope when the doctor finally admitted, "Yeah, you're right. But she shouldn't be alone." Sam easily heard Janet's heavy sigh, "Doctor Robbins is sick and two SG teams are due back tonight. I won't be able to get away until morning at the earliest." 

 

"I'll take her home and stay with her." 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The ringing of her phone woke her from a restless sleep and by the time she managed to reach for it, it had stopped. Opening her eyes, Sam squinted at her bedside clock--0930. And by the light shining brightly behind the curtains, she knew it was morning. Flopping onto her back, she sighed heavily. When she'd first gotten home, it had been heavenly, even with Daniel in tow. But, he had been an undemanding companion, taking care of her in his casual way. They'd had omelets for dinner, Daniel had been smart enough to stop at a grocery store on the way to her place. And while she hadn't been very hungry, what she had managed to eat of the cheese and ham omelet had tasted surprisingly good. 

 

She'd had a long bath then, after supper, enjoying the luxury of the hot water and the opportunity to just relax. Of course, it would have been better if she hadn't been jumping at every small noise, from the rumble of the water heater to the occasional traffic noises and movement she heard from Daniel. She'd stayed in the tub almost an hour, long enough for Daniel to knock cautiously at the bathroom door, asking if she were okay. She'd reluctantly gotten out and after putting on her favorite pajamas and cozy chenille robe, she'd joined him in the living room, where he plied her with Cookies & Cream ice cream and the latest gossip from the base. She hadn't been hungry though, and just stirred the ice cream around until it melted. Setting it aside, she tried to concentrate on what Daniel was saying, but it was becoming more and more difficult. She knew he meant well, and she appreciated him being with her, but an incredibly lethargy was filling her and all she wanted was to go to bed.

 

Thankfully, he seemed to sense her thoughts, because he suddenly stood up and announced it was time for both of them to go to bed. Under Daniel's watchful eye, Sam took the sleeping pill Janet had prescribed and had gladly retreated to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Daniel knew where the guestroom was and she'd gratefully gotten into her own bed and tried to sleep. She'd fallen asleep easily enough, but her dreams had kept her in a restless state all night, vivid images of her captivity, of what might have been if she hadn't been rescued. In between her disjointed dreams she'd lain awake staring at the ceiling, trying to calm her too rapid breathing and heart. She wondered how long it would be before she felt safe?

 

"Sam?" Daniel's voice was hesitant, just outside her bedroom door.

 

Forcing herself out of the bed, she pulled on her robe and opened the door. She stood in the doorway, trying not to flinch when his too perceptive gaze swept over her. She knew she probably didn't look any better for a night's sleep, but there wasn't much she could do about it. "Sorry I slept so late, Daniel," she apologized.

 

"Ah, Sam...I have to go back to the base, that phone call?" She nodded, taking slow deep breaths. She would be okay...when he left. "SG-6 has brought back some kind of scroll that looks like it has references to some unnamed and greatly feared Goa'uld. Could be the same Goa'uld Tanith was talking about." 

 

She nodded and gave Daniel a small smile, trying to persuade it to light up her eyes as well, but she knew she failed. "You go, I'll be fine," she told him, suffusing her voice with a confidence that she was far from feeling.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam rolled over, ignoring the incessant ringing of her doorbell. She didn't care who was there, or what they wanted. All she wanted was to stay in bed and be left alone. It didn't matter that she hadn't left her house, much less her bed, for the past six days. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen anyone since Daniel had left--again six days earlier. She had managed to answer the phone whenever it rang and had successfully brushed off Janet and Daniel's concerns for her welfare. Her condition didn't matter, all she cared about was hearing that the Colonel was okay. And when he had been released after only forty-eight hours in the infirmary, she had felt nothing but relief and hadn't left her bed since then. 

 

She vaguely realized that her never-ending fatigue and lack of energy was not normal, even given the circumstances of her recent kidnapping. But there just didn't seem to be any reason to get up and get dressed, or to eat, or to do anything except stay safe and secure in the self-imposed prison of her bedroom, where she couldn't let anybody down. 

 

The doorbell ringing had given way to pounding on her door. Sam looked at the bedside clock, 1100. Evidently whoever was there wasn't going to go away anytime soon, and not wanting to cause yet another unexplainable scene to her neighbors, she reluctantly decided she'd have to see who was there. Dragging herself out of bed, she was surprised at the dizziness that assaulted her, and by sheer will alone managed to stumble down the hallway to the front door. "I'm coming," she called, her voice hoarse from disuse and—thankfully--the knocking stopped.

 

Fumbling with the locks and security chain, she eventually managed to get the door open, squinting in the bright sunlight. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, the figure before her only a large, dark blur against the too-bright sun.

 

"Dammit, Carter!" A man's angry voice, she instinctively backed away. The figure followed her, "I thought you had more sense than to just open your door without checking who was there first--especially after all that's happened!"

 

The pounding of her heart only increased when she recognized the Colonel. She shrank back against the wall, he was right, she hadn't even thought to look through the peephole or even ask who was there. She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, she obviously hadn't learned anything after her ordeal. She heard the door close and opened her eyes, finding O'Neill studying her through hooded eyes. He looked good, she noted, the lines of pain and fatigue she'd last seen on his face were gone. Trying not to flinch under his scowling gaze, Sam wrapped her arms around herself, desperately hoping that the light-headedness that had been her constant companion for last few days wouldn't get any worse. 

 

"Sir," she managed to murmur, taking a shuddering breath and willing herself to remain upright.

 

His face unexpectedly softened, his eyes going dark. "Sam, what's going on?"

 

The soft and caring tone of his voice contrasted so sharply with his previous anger that she felt even more off-balance. The roaring in her ears only increased though and she felt the dizziness start to overwhelm her. "Sir," she mumbled, stumbling away from the wall and towards him, sliding into oblivion even as she reached out to him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shit, Jack ran his hand through his hair, pacing the living room. Sam lay where he'd placed her limp body, on the sofa. Her even breathing and rapid pulse reassuring him, at the same time that her unexpected faint into his arms alarmed him. Not exactly sure what to do, he was simply waiting for her to awaken. He hadn't called Fraiser yet, something he should have done immediately, he supposed. But he hadn't.... Jack shook his head and looked down at Sam. He had somehow optimistically believed that once they'd gotten her back, she'd be fine, that they'd all be fine. He certainly hadn't factored the too-pale, too-thin and frightened woman currently unconscious on the sofa into the equation.

 

Crossing to where Sam lay, Jack gently removed the damp towel from her forehead and went into the kitchen, running some more cold water. He should have come to check on her sooner, his injuries weren't that serious, and he'd ditched the sling as soon as Fraiser had discharged him, and he'd been on the same enforced medical leave as she'd been. He should have listened to Daniel, their conversation just after his discharge from Fraiser's iron rule in the infirmary, running ominously through his brain. 

 

_"I'm worried about Sam."_

_Awkwardly fastening his BDU shirt with his left hand, Jack had looked curiously at Daniel. "I thought Fraiser gave her a clean bill of health?"_

_"She did." Daniel had gazed right by him, as if searching the far wall for the right words. "But she wasn't acting like her usual self."_

_"Well Daniel," Jack had adopted the patronizing tone Daniel so often used with him. "She's just been kidnapped and almost killed, that's enough to affect any one!"_

_"No," the other man had continued, unfazed by Jack's assessment. "This was different. It's like she's, I don't know, hiding."_

_Jack had looked sharply at Daniel then, wondering how much of his theory was based on speculation, and Carter's out-of-character behavior at the Seattle hospital. Ignoring the tightening in his gut, he'd brushed Daniel's concerns aside. "Well, if Fraiser says she's okay, that's good enough for me."_

 

Daniel had grunted a non-committal reply and thankfully let the topic drop. Jack had ignored the small niggling of doubt and left the base, intending to take full advantage of the three weeks of medical leave that Fraiser had forced on him. 

 

Wringing out the once more cold and wet towel, Jack returned to the living room. Sitting on the coffee table, he carefully placed the cool towel across Sam's forehead. Smoothing back her hair, he sat and watched her and waited. He wondered again if he should call Fraiser, but there was just something that prevented him from doing so. Calling Fraiser would mean having to take Sam to the base, putting her back under the scrutiny of not only Fraiser, but also Hammond and--he was forced to acknowledge--the NID. He hadn't been taking very good care of his team lately, or at least one member of that team. He came to a sudden decision then, acting on his gut instead of his brain. There was no way he was going to expose Carter to more observation and tests. Pulling out his cell, he left his major lying peacefully on the sofa and walked into the kitchen, making calls and pulling in favors.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He felt the rage rising in him and it was only with deliberate effort that he was able to get it back under control. He was so close! And then that Air Force man had come and taken her away! No one had been to her house for the entire forty-eight hours that he'd been watching. He knew his time was limited, he knew they'd be looking for him and now his plans had been once more ruined by that man! Sanger decided then, that he'd have revenge on that Colonel O'Neill as well. After all, Adrian Conrad was a great man, a man of much more importance than a mere Air Force colonel and major. 

 

Sanger knew he could still help Adrian, as soon as he had his specimen back. Once he had her and had discovered the secrets of her survival, of how the symbiote cured the host, he would be famous! What he could discover would be worthy of the Nobel Prize! The cure for countless human frailties lay locked within her brain. And he would have them; he would have them all! Forcing the anger that once more boiled to the surface back down, Sanger started up the engine of his 'borrowed' vehicle. Patience, he just needed more patience, he repeated to himself as he carefully followed the pick-up carrying his nemesis and his prize.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Luis' head was half-buried under the hood of his truck when he heard his cell phone ringing. Swearing softly at the interruption, he tightened the fitting on the hose before leaving his task, wiping his greasy hands on a towel. The afternoon had turned warm and his jacket, with phone in the pocket, was lying on top of his toolbox. He made it to the phone before the final ring, immediately recognizing the phone number of his employer on the display. 

 

"Hey, Derek," he greeted the caller. Derek was never one to waste time, so Luis merely listened to his employer, automatically nodding even though the other man couldn't see him. "Right. Don't worry, we'll take good care of him and his friend." The call was ended almost before Luis finished his sentence and he smiled, putting the phone in his pocket. Closing the hood of the truck, Luis quickly packed up his tools, carefully putting them away and locking them in the tool chest in the bed of the pick-up. 

 

Checking his watch, he crossed the neatly manicured lawn that surrounded the house where he and Josie lived. They could have lived in the main house, but Josie claimed it was too big and not really her own, so they lived in the smaller manager's house. Carefully wiping his feet on the doormat before entering the back door, Luis opened the door and called to his wife. "Josie?"

 

"In here," her voice rang out from the kitchen. "You finished with the truck already?" she asked, looking up from the steaming stockpot on the stove.

 

Luis smiled, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his still beautiful wife, even if she had just been complaining a month ago about turning fifty! Walking the few steps that took him to her, he put his arm around her waist and kissed her. Looking down at the large pot on the stove he asked, "What are you making?"

 

"Vegetable soup," she said, continuing to stir the contents.

 

"Made enough?" he teased. Josie still hadn't gotten the knack of cooking for just the two of them. She still made enough food for a small army. Not that he could complain, she was an excellent cook.

 

She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow before replying placidly, "The leftovers will freeze quite nicely."

 

"Well, that won't be a problem. Got company coming to the chalet."

 

"We do?" Josie set the spoon down on the spoon rest, turning to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me when you came in?" she complained mildly, turning the burner down and putting the lid on the pot. "When will they get here?" she asked, taking off her apron and Luis knew her mind was already racing with what they would need to do to get the chalet ready for guests. Not that it wasn't already clean to within an inch of its existence, but his wife was particular and the chalet had been empty for six weeks. 

 

"Don't you want to know who it is?" he asked, smiling at her somewhat annoyed look.

 

"Why? Is it somebody we know?" She looked skeptical and Luis' smile widened, enjoying the moment.

 

"Jack O'Neill."

 

"Jack O'Neill!" she practically shrieked and then hit him soundly on the shoulder with her fist. "Why didn't you say so!"

 

"I just did," he teased.

 

Her smile faded though and she looked at him, her hazel eyes suddenly serious. "What's wrong?"

 

"Why would something be wrong?"

 

"Jack hasn't been here in over six years. And then..." she let her voice trail off and Luis knew what she wasn't saying. It had been right after his divorce had been finalized and O'Neill had spent a week at the chalet, in self-imposed isolation. Until the last day when he'd shown up at their doorstep and Josie had taken one look at him and pulled him into her arms and simply held him. The wounded look in his eyes had faded somewhat and the three of them had spent an undemanding evening together. 

 

"He's bringing someone with him."

 

"Is he now?" Josie snorted, hanging up her apron.

 

"A woman."

 

That made her pause, as she turned from and looked at him. "A woman? Jack O'Neill is bringing a woman here?" Josie's eyes lit up and Luis regretted teasing her. His wife was one of those women who wasn't happy unless everyone around her was happily involved in a relationship.

 

"A friend, Derek said. Don't go getting any ideas," he warned his wife.

 

"Why? Is there something else?"

 

Damn, but the woman knew him too well. "Derek wasn't sure." Luis shrugged at Josie's skeptical look. "All we currently know is that Jack needs a place where he and his friend can rest and recuperate," his wife's eyebrows predictably rose with that comment, "for a couple of weeks."

 

"Are they coming from Colorado Springs?" she asked. Luis knew she was bursting with curiousity, but she was also ever practical--and they did have the chalet to get ready.

 

"Jerry's flying them out this afternoon."

 

"Well, we better get busy then."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The small Cessna banked under the clouds, the private runway just visible through the pines and light rain. Jack glanced over his shoulder to check on Sam. Her eyes were closed, her neck bent at an awkward angle that had to be uncomfortable. But she didn't stir. When they'd boarded, the pilot had giver her a stadium blanket and she had wadded up part of it as a pillow, part as a cover. Jack couldn't tell if she was asleep or just shutting out the world. Turning his attention back to the expansive vista still before them, the plane was buffeted slightly by the wind from the storm. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he really hoped he had done the right thing. 

 

"We're almost there, Jack."

 

Jack nodded, looking briefly at the young man piloting the plane. "The storm going to be a problem, Jerry?"

 

The pilot grinned, clearly enjoying the rough weather. "Nah, just makes this milk run more interesting, is all."

 

Jack grunted, not really sharing the pilot's enthusiasm but glad the weather wasn't going to be a problem. The flight from the Springs to Telluride was a relatively short one and while he could have driven, his arm still bothered him a bit and he also hadn't been sure how Sam would have held up. So, Jack had gladly taken Derek up on his offer of use of the plane and the SUV he kept at the ranch.

 

When he'd first come up with the idea to take Sam away, Jack had first thought of going to his cabin. But, he'd quickly decided the trip would take too long and besides--after all her refusals to go with him--he figured it would be too cliched to take her there now. So, as he'd considered something closer, his thoughts had immediately turned to Derek James, the one person who had exactly what Jack needed and who also owed him, big time. And thank god, he'd gotten through to Derek, and the guesthouse on his ranch near Telluride was available for as long as Jack needed. 

 

Frighteningly enough, getting Sam to agree to go away with him had been the easiest part of the whole plan. And more than anything else, her listless agreement and subdued manner told him something was seriously wrong with her. Not physically, he thought anyway. But he'd worked with people who had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, and while he knew enough about the symptoms to know that Sam wasn't suffering from that, she was at least suffering from some kind of mild depression. And while he also that knew Fraiser was a good doctor and cared about her patients, lately the good doctor had been working understaffed and overwhelmed at the SGC. And just like him, Jack acknowledged ruefully, Sam was good at hiding what was really going on. By the time she'd recovered from her faint, he'd already set his plan in motion. Not wanting to give Sam time to think of the multitude of reasons why going with him was a bad idea, Jack had pushed her and they had been on their way by late afternoon.

 

_He'd come back into the living room, after calling Derek, and found Sam sitting up on the sofa. Her eyes were still a bit glassy and she looked at him curiously. "How'd I get here?"_

_"You fainted."_

_She had grimaced at that and made a motion like she was going to stand, but then reconsidered, sitting back on the sofa. She didn't say anything, just closed her eyes._

_"Sam." Just her name, but her eyes flashed open and she looked directly at him. The quiet despair he saw there only firmed his resolve. "I think it would be good if we got away for awhile." She didn't say anything, but she didn't look away. "I've already made the arrangements." She slowly nodded her head and Jack took that as agreement. When she didn't do anything but continue to sit on the sofa, he spoke again. "We'll leave as soon as you pack."_

_That seemed to rouse her, and she stood up murmuring, "Right, I'll pack." She brushed past him, a bit unsteadily, and he followed her down the hallway to her bedroom. Only as he walked behind her did he realize she was wearing a pair of very wrinkled and grubby looking navy blue sweatpants and a not-quite matching light blue sweatshirt. And now that he wasn't quite so focused on the fact that she'd passed out on him, he could see that she hadn't washed her hair in several days and she had an odor that was distinctly not Sam._

_When they reached her bedroom, he'd stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. "Sam, why don't you take a shower," he'd nodded towards what he hoped was the adjoining bathroom, "and I'll throw some things together? Okay?"_

_She nodded again and went into the bathroom, not quite closing the door all the way. Jack was relieved when he heard the water start running and then the sound of the shower. Going to her closet, he opened the door and hoped like hell that he'd find a suitcase or something._

 

Things had moved swiftly from that point on, he'd found a duffel, Sam had showered and changed and between them--but mostly him, they'd managed to pack what would probably be more than enough clothing and other personal items for a week or so in the mountains. He hadn't let himself think about the intimacy of packing for her, her uncharacteristic docility worrying him more than having to handle her undergarments! Once finished, he'd locked up her house, and almost as an afterthought, gathered up her laptop and briefcase, and herded her out to his truck. After a quick stop at his house and another quick packing job, they were on their way. 

 

Before they'd left town, Jack had called Daniel from the airfield where Derek kept his planes. Jack figured he had better let someone know he was going away and taking Sam. Not sure what kind of response he'd receive, Jack had been gratified at Daniel's unquestioning acceptance of his plan and unexpected encouragement. His enigmatic words, however, had struck too close to the heart of the matter. "The last few months have been rough on you and Sam. You both need this time." As far as Jack was concerned, that was getting way too close to feelings that were better off ignored. Feelings that he thought he could ignore, that was until he'd held her limp body in his arms, the strain of not only her kidnapping but the last few months all too evident in her slender form and pale face. Of course, what Daniel had said next had alarmed him even more.

 

_"Oh, by the way, Jack. Hammond was just notified this morning that one of the doctors working for Adrian Conrad has escaped custody."_

_"Escaped? How the hell did that happen?"_

_"Ah, apparently a clerical error. Somehow the paperwork for his release was processed and he was freed."_

_He snorted. "A clerical error? Sounds like something the NID would arrange, Daniel, to get him into their custody." Of course, an error was possible, they already knew how inept those same authorities had been when it come to preventing the escape of Conrad, Maybourne, and god knows who else had been at the deserted hospital._

_"Ah, possibly Jack...though Hammond doesn't seem to think so."_

_"Right, whatever." An escaped crackpot doctor in Seattle was the least of his concerns right now._

_"So, maybe it's good you're taking Sam away."_

_Something in the tone of Daniel's voice warned Jack there was more going on than other man had told him. "Daniel, is there something you're not telling me?" he'd asked suspiciously._

_"No, I don't think so...oh, wait! You were already gone when this Doctor Sanger tried to attack Sam."_

 

Jack had listened with growing disbelief as Daniel described the incident in the parking lot in Seattle. This Doctor Victor Sanger was clearly a nut case and obsessed with Carter. And now he was free. So yeah, it probably was a good thing he was taking Sam away for awhile, and hopefully the authorities would catch up with the mad doctor before he could get any ideas about coming after Sam. And Jack was also glad now, that he'd packed his handgun, something that at the time had seemed a bit of overkill, but with Daniel's unexpected news, Jack felt better having it close at hand. 

 

The plane made a sharp bank to the right and Jack realized Jerry was getting ready for his final approach before landing. Checking Sam one more time, to make sure she was still securely fastened in, he was surprised to find her eyes open and looking at him. He smiled and she returned his smile with a tentative one. "Almost there," he told her. "You okay?" She nodded somberly and he felt a slight easing of the tension in his gut. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The rain was pouring down now, the windshield wipers on his stolen car leaving large streaks and smears with each swipe of the blades. Sanger had rapidly found out why the old Impala had been parked with the keys in the ignition. The driver had probably been hoping someone would steal it! Dodge Impala... or was it Chevy? Sanger didn't know and didn't really care. It was a car and it served his purposes, the V-8 engine not complaining too loudly as he drove with reckless speed through the mountains on Highway 50. Looking at the gas gauge, Sanger calculated he'd have to stop for gas soon. The inside dome light didn't work, so he flicked on his small penlight, fumbling with the map with one hand while steering with the other. Montrose, yeah, he could stop in Montrose, replenish his supplies, maybe sleep a bit and then finalize his plan. 

 

Oh, he knew where the oh-so-smart Colonel was taking his major. The boy running the fuel pumps at the airfield had been more than obliging with the information he needed, once he'd given the kid fifty dollars. That it had been the last of cash hadn't worried Sanger at the time. And he wasn't too worried now. He knew using his credit card was a risk, but he'd have Major Carter back in less than forty-eight hours, or at the least the most valuable part of Major Carter, her brain. Thanks to the kid at the airfield and twenty minutes at a computer in one of Colorado Springs' public libraries, Sanger knew everything he needed to know about Derek James and his holdings in San Miguel County.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam took the hand the young pilot offered her as he helped her out of the plane. She stood on the dirt runway, shivering a bit in the light rain and brisk breeze that was blowing and looked around curiously. She knew they were somewhere near Telluride, but all she could currently see in the early evening light where pine trees, mountains, several vehicles, a Quonset hut and a larger building that she imagined could house the small plane they'd arrived in. But still, it was nice, the air fresh and full of the scents of the forest. The chill of the early autumn evening felt good against her skin. Sam took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the clean, untainted air. A far cry from the stale and stuffy atmosphere of her home the last week. For the first time in days she was starting to feel like she was alive. 

 

Standing under the limited protection of the wing, Sam watched idly while Jack and the pilot talked. It was dangerous she knew, to think of him as Jack. But everything he had done so far was so far removed from 'Colonel', she couldn't think of him as anything else but Jack. The younger man sprinted off towards the hut, their conversation apparently over and Jack turned back towards her. 

 

"Jerry's gone to get the car, then we can head up to the house."

 

Jack walked around her, going to the open the cargo hatch of the plane. She followed, responding to some innate need to be close to him. "Where are we?" she asked, genuinely curious.

 

Jack stopped what he was doing and simply stared at her. Sam wasn't sure why a simple question would garner such a reaction, but she persevered. "I know you said something about Telluride...but," and with that she gestured around her, "where?"

 

He grinned at her and she felt herself relaxing a bit. He didn't answer right away, instead finished what he was doing and soon, he was standing next to her and they were surrounded by her duffel, his larger one and, surprisingly enough to her, her briefcase. "Blue Pines Ranch."

 

"Blue Pines?" she questioned, looking around at what she could see of the surrounding forest. "I thought they were 'Blue Spruce'?"

 

"Yeah, well Derek never was a big one for botany."

 

"And Derek would be?"

 

"Derek James."

 

She shot him an annoyed look and O'Neill's grin only widened. 

 

"Derek James, former college room-mate and now highly successful entrepreneur," he finally told her. "I think he's currently doing something with micro-processors. Anyway, he owns a good chunk of San Miguel County and we will be guests at his ranch."

 

"The whole ranch?" she asked, envisioning cattle and horses, visions of TV westerns filling her brain.

 

"Actually, the guest house. It's a ranch in name only, I think. I know he keeps some horses, but that's about it."

 

Sam had nodded, gazing with more interest at the surrounding area. As best as she could tell in the early evening gloom, the airfield was well tended and the 'car' Jerry had just driven up to them was a huge Suburban. 

 

The young man hopped out the Suburban, handing the keys to Jack. "Here you go!" He loaded their bags into the vehicle and then proceeded to open the passenger door for her. 

 

The rain had started coming down harder and as Sam got into the posh vehicle she heard Jack ask Jerry, "You flying back tonight?"

 

"Yeah...what's a little rain?" Jerry laughed then, closing her door. Sam looked out the window at the low clouds and dwindling daylight, glad she was on the ground! "If you need anything, just call Luis. He and Josie are both here."

 

"Thanks and safe trip," Jack told the young man, shaking his hand. Jerry handed over the keys to the Suburban and waved through the window at her while Jack got into the plush vehicle.

 

"Luis and Josie?" Sam asked, surprisingly curious about this previously unknown aspect of her CO's life.

 

"Luis and Josie Martinez, they're the caretakers here. Well really, Luis is the ranch manager and Josie runs the domestic side of things."

 

"You come here often?" she asked, fastening her seatbelt.

 

Jack started up the Suburban, the engine purring softly. "Well, not for a few years. But..." and he looked over at her then, "I helped Derek out of a tight situation once and have had an open invitation to 'come stay' whenever I wanted."

 

"And this is one of those times, eh?" she murmured quietly, more to herself than her companion, while Jack put the powerful vehicle into gear and drove towards a dirt road just visible at the northeastern edge of the airfield.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Marco paced the small office restlessly, checking the clock again for the umpteenth time over the last hour. Jerry had radioed in that he had run into a little bad weather, but that he would back by midnight--and it was almost midnight now. Crossing to the door, Marco opened it and looked out again, scanning the sky for some sign of the small plane. A light rain was falling, but it wouldn't have been enough to stop Jerry. Marco was worried. Jerry was a good friend and Mr. James was the best employer he'd ever had! He couldn't think now why he'd answered that man's questions and taken the money. At the time, fifty dollars had seemed like so much! But the more he thought about it, the more Marco realized something wasn't right with that man or the questions he'd asked. Even though the man had said he was a doctor and needed to help the nice lady, there had been something in his eyes that now gave Marco the chills. Marco knew he needed to tell Jerry about what had happened and what the man wanted, Jerry would know what to do. 

 

Closing the door, Marco decided to try radioing Jerry when the radio suddenly blared to life. It was Jerry! Rushing to the mic, Marco keyed it on. Jerry's voice faded in and out with static, the familiar call signals reassuring Marco. "Hey Marco, buddy. You there? Over." 

 

"Yeah, Jerry...where are you?" He ran his free hand through his hair. "I've been getting worried."

 

"I'm in Alamosa, buddy. Bad weather and then that darn oil gauge started acting up again." His voice crackled with static. "Figured I better go to ground."

 

"Okay." Marco took a deep breath, wondering if he should tell Jerry about the man now, when the radio crackled again.

 

"Listen, Marco, you go home. I'll be there tomorrow morning sometime. Just need to wait this storm out and get the oil gauge fixed."

 

"I... there's something I need to tell you, Jerry. It's real important."

 

Jerry's chuckle sounded over the receiver. "You'll have to tell me tomorrow, Marco." Jerry's voice faded out. "Too much electricity in the air, I'm losing the signal. See you tomorrow. Over and out." And with a final surge of static, the radio went dead.

 

Marco set the mic down and once more crossed to the front office windows, feeling only slightly better now that he'd talked to Jerry. Looking out at the familiar lights and nighttime view, he wondered if maybe he was making too much out of the doctor's questions. He shivered again, the only problem was he couldn't forget the thinly veiled look of madness he'd seen shining in the man's beady eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The smell of coffee finally lured Sam out of her bedroom. It was still early, not quite 0700, but evidently Jack kept the same hours whether he was working or not. Or so it seemed, at least she'd know for sure once this unexpected vacation was over, she mused. Which was something she intended to find out today, why he had brought her here. Last night, her initial enthusiasm had once more given way to the creeping lethargy that seemed to plague her these days. The trip to the guest house, which was truly a misnomer for the beautiful chalet they were staying in, had taken roughly ten minutes or so. The house, built on the similar lines to a Swiss chalet, had just been visible in the gathering night. Jack had quickly let them in and she had collapsed on the soft leather sofa in the large main room and let Jack handle everything else. Under his watchful eye she'd somehow managed to eat the steaming cup of vegetable soup he'd brought her and then she'd pleaded tiredness, wordlessly asking for a reprieve from whatever he had planned. 

 

His eyes had been tender and all too knowing as he'd nodded, guiding her up the stairs to the bedroom that would be hers. Her duffel was already there, along with her briefcase. She'd smiled tiredly and then compelled by something deep inside, she'd reached out and just touched his arm, as he'd turned to leave. "Thank you, sir." It wasn't much and didn't even begin to cover all that she felt at that moment, but it had come from her heart. 

 

He'd smiled, that soft, half one that always surprised her, because it hinted at a Jack O'Neill she only had brief glimpses of but desperately wanted to know. "Sleep well, Sam," was all he'd said though, his departure leaving her feeling unexpectedly alone. And she had slept well, to her great surprise. The huge bed had been soft and inviting, the soft, crisp sheets and luxurious down comforter cradling her in warmth all night long.

 

But now...now they had the whole day ahead of them. If she could just hang onto the energy that had gotten her out of bed and dressed. Opening the door, Sam went in search of the coffee, and Jack. Slowly heading down the stairs, Sam was more than impressed by her surroundings. Last night she had only been vaguely aware that the chalet was nice but by daylight and wide-awake, she saw that it was stunning. Beautifully decorated, yet somehow warm and inviting at the same time, Sam concluded that this Derek was doing exceeding well in 'micro-processors'--especially if this was the guesthouse! Her mind boggled at what the main house must look like! 

 

Reaching the main level, and briefly gawking at the awesome mountains visible from the floor to ceiling windows in the main room, Sam followed the sounds of movement to the kitchen. 

 

She paused in the doorway, impressed with both the kitchen and the man currently standing at the stove with his back to her. She knew she shouldn't do it, that it would only get her longing for things that she couldn't have, but his rear view was so damn nice! He was actually wearing jeans that fit just right--and his shirt tucked in for once, his broad shoulders tapering down nicely to his tight butt. Breaking her dangerous train of thought, Sam cleared her voice, finally murmuring, "Good morning."

 

He swung around instantly, his face lighting up in a smile and she found herself immediately relaxing. "Good morning yourself." He grinned at her, "I was hoping you'd get up soon, since there's no way," and with that he gestured to the skillet on the stove top, "I'll be able to eat all this omelet by myself."

 

She wasn't really hungry, but she wouldn't tell him that. She'd try and eat...because that's what he wanted. "Sounds good," she said, crossing to the coffeemaker. He'd set out a mug for her. Pouring herself a cup, she took a sip. It was hot and delicious. Obviously Derek didn't cut corners when it came to his guests. Sam sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and watching Jack while he finished cooking breakfast. The kitchen was modern and rustic at the same time, with enough equipment and appliances to please the fussiest chef. And even though the serving of omelet he sat in front of her looked and smelled appetizing, Sam was only able to eat a few bites, before she gave up and simply sat and watched him eat.

 

"Not hungry?" he asked, gesturing towards her with his fork.

 

"Not really," she sighed. 

 

"Pretty normal, actually," he commented, using a slice of toast to sop up some egg and cheese.

 

"What?" she asked, pausing in the act of lifting her coffee mug.

 

"Loss of appetite, pretty normal for someone suffering from depression."

 

She bristled at his comment. "And what makes you think that's my problem, Doctor O'Neill?"

 

He sat back in his chair and looked her for so long that she started to squirm before she stopped herself. "It's pretty obvious, Sam."

 

"I...well," she floundered for a moment and then gave up. This was Jack, he knew her better than anyone--whether he knew it or not. She averted her eyes, not wanting to let him see. "I haven't been doing too well, have I?"

 

"Well, if the condition you were in when I went over to your house yesterday is any indication, then I'd say, no, you haven't been doing too well."

 

Well, he had her there. She had been a pretty sad case yesterday, and for the last week or so. Surprisingly enough today, she didn't feel quite as bad. At least she'd managed to get out of bed...and dressed in something clean and halfway presentable--though her faded jeans and sweatshirt currently hung on her. "I don't know what's been wrong," she confessed quietly.

 

"I do," he answered, his gaze intense.

 

She laughed shakily. "Mind sharing with me, then?"

 

"Being experimented on like you were a lab rat and almost getting killed doesn't tell you something?"

 

She couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her at his words. "I guess I try not to think about that," she whispered. And even though she tried not to think about it, she knew it haunted her dreams...what little she could remember of them.

 

His eyes were suddenly serious and he sat forward in his chair, setting his fork down. "You don't have to think about it, Sam. What you have to do is move beyond it."

 

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, suddenly annoyed by his armchair psychology. She knew she needed to move beyond it, she wanted to leave it behind her! Even if it currently seemed beyond her ability....

 

He stood up then, the chair skidding backwards in the quiet kitchen. Before she could react, he had crossed to where she sat and squatted down by her chair. Totally disarming her, she could only stare at him as he gently took one of her cold hands into his much warmer and larger one. "I know it's easy to say, Sam. Hell, I've been there myself. What's important is that you're not alone—not anymore."

 

She studied him carefully; his usual casual demeanor replaced with something more intense and disturbing. "Jack..." her voice trailed off and she wasn't sure what she could say to him. He saved her though, as he so routinely did.

 

"It's okay, Sam." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand and standing. "No expectations and no pressure, okay? Just two friends spending their recovery together, okay?"

 

"Okay," she told him, somehow feeling comforted and threatened all at the same time! Maybe she was reading too much into the whole situation. Just because the two of them were alone, in a beautiful and isolated location, didn't mean anything--did it? 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sanger pulled his jacket tighter, once more scanning the area with the high-powered binoculars he'd had the foresight to buy in Montrose. Maybe he should have bought a heavier coat too, but he was confident he'd have his quarry soon. Satisfied that his two subjects were still inside the house, he sat down on the damp ground, ignoring the discomfort. Opening a candy bar, Sanger munched on the chocolate and deliberated on his plan. The fact that it was still rather nebulous didn't bother him too much. As far as he'd seen, there was no one else around for miles. The main ranch was five miles away and he'd only seen two people there, who could only be the caretakers and not likely to cause him any trouble. Which only left separating Major Carter from her watchdog. Now that he was this close, Sanger found he could be patient, settling back against a sturdy pine tree, he waited.

 

Sounds carried well in the clear air of the mountains, so hours later when Sanger heard the slamming of a door, he hopped up and grabbed the binoculars. Even in the gathering dusk, he could easily make out O'Neill, who was clearly visible in the motion-activated lights that had come on when he'd exited the back door to the chalet. Just as he'd hoped, O'Neill was making another trip to the woodpile at the rear of the chalet. He'd been out twice since Sanger had taken up his current location, once at mid-morning and then again at mid-afternoon. Glancing at his watch, Sanger concluded that this would more than likely be his final trip of the day. Lucky for him the Colonel liked having a fire burning. 

 

But, it wouldn't hurt to stay a bit longer, just to be sure. He had an excellent view of the chalet, why with the binoculars he could even see right into the main room. The huge windows and the light shining inside the room making everything perfectly clear. Settling back to watch his subjects a bit longer, Sanger took a swallow from his bottle of water and then looked through the binoculars, feeling a rush of satisfaction when he caught a glimpse of Major Carter through the large picture windows. By this time tomorrow, he would finally have what was rightfully his.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam sat on the sofa, watching with only mild interest as Jack built the fire back up. She'd seen the thermostat, she knew there was central heating in the chalet. But he seemed determine to heat the whole place with keeping a fire going in the huge stone fireplace in the main room. Not that it wasn't nice...and cozy. Though there hadn't been any rain all day, the skies had been overcast and threatening. Not that she'd been even tempted to go outside or do anything...except nap, or pretend to read and try not to feel too guilty when Jack had literally waited on her hand and foot all day. She'd picked at the tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches he'd fixed for lunch and she had no greater hope of eating anything more that evening.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Yeah?" he glanced up, from where he knelt in front of the fireplace.

 

"I'm not really hungry."

 

"I know, Sam. Don't worry, I won't try to force you to pretend to eat anything tonight."

 

His voice wasn't harsh, only sadly discouraged and she felt a fresh wave of guilt wash through her. Here he was only trying to be kind and help her and she couldn't even eat what he prepared for her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the despair that she'd managed to conquer all day finally overwhelming her. She looked at him, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I don't want to be this way," her voice broke, but she doggedly continued. "I just don't seem to have any control over it." It was hard, she was a private person and in normal circumstances, she never would have dreamt of confiding in him. But, this was hardly their usual circumstances and she knew enough about his past to suspect he would understand her depression. Oh god, she suddenly realized she was wringing her hands, which more than anything told her that she was way too close to the edge. But she needed to continue, to make him understand.

 

"I don't really remember too much about the first few days I was there. They kept me pretty drugged up and immobilized." She unconsciously rubbed her wrist, the memory of the leather restraints still amazingly vivid. "I seemed to build up a tolerance to the drugs, though." She dared a quick look at Jack; he was standing now by the fireplace, watching her intently. "One time when they weren't watching too closely, I was able to get a scalpel and I managed to saw through my restraints." Her laugh was bitter, "Not that it made much difference in the long run, but I almost escaped. But I couldn't kill him, not in cold blood."

 

"Couldn't kill whom?"

 

"Conrad. I believed him when he said we both could live." She smiled slightly. "Naïve of me, I know. I always seem to want to think the best of people." Taking a deep breath and looking straight at him for the first time she started, she continued. "It was only when they came in that final time, to kill me, that I realized I was only a tool to them. Worse than that actually, just something to used and discarded. My only value being what they could extract from my brain." 

 

She laughed harshly, ignoring Jack's wince. "But then that's all I've ever been, isn't it? A tool--to my father, the Air Force, my fiancé, Jolinar, Linnea, Martouf, Orlin." She paused, knowing he wouldn't like what she was going to say next, but needing to get it out in the open. "And to you."

 

"Sam," he interrupted, his expression shocked. "You know that's not true!"

 

"Isn't it? Sometimes the only value I think I have for you is how quickly I can solve whatever crisis is currently at hand. It's always 'Carter, figure it out' or 'Carter, do something'." She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, all the despair was building up in her again. She didn't know why she was trying to explain it to him, it wouldn't make any difference anyway and all she wanted to do was forget. Forget about the men who had almost killed her, forget that the only thing she was good for was her brain, forget that she loved a man she shouldn't.

 

"Sam, I don't...I never--" Before she even realized his intent, Jack had crossed the room and was sitting by her side, pulling her into his arms. His action so totally shocked her that she found herself automatically leaning into his embrace and had actually wrapped her arms around him when she suddenly realized what was happening. She was discouraged and she shouldn't take whatever comfort he might offer. And while she tried to stay mad, her heart betrayed her, filling with joy at with the warmth of his arms around her, pushing aside the deep ache that had been there for longer than she could remember. 

 

And then it was too late, his strength and his warmth had wrapped around her, pulling her under his spell and she was lost. Part of her knew he only meant to comfort her, that the hands running soothingly up and down her back were meant to soothe, not arouse. Oh, but it felt so good, to have his arms around her, to be held tightly against him and she couldn't help but respond, drawn to him like a moth to the flame. 

 

Without conscious thought, she nestled closer and moaned softly against his throat, her lips just brushing against his skin. She shivered, the accidental caress sending tendrils of desire curling through her. For the briefest of moments she had forgotten why she was here, with him...the past few weeks fading into nothingness while she ignored the voice of common sense that told her seeking solace in his embrace would only lead to future pain. But right now, the future didn't matter and if anything could make her forget the past few weeks, it would be the too brief moments of peace she knew awaited her in his arms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack knew the first touch of her lips against his neck was accidental, the second lingering caress however, was not. Fire licked through him, gathering hotly in his groin as she delicately bit and then soothingly kissed his suddenly hypersensitive flesh. "Sam," he groaned harshly, grasping her shoulders and forcing her away from him.

 

"No, Jack..." she pleaded, her hands clutching at his shirt, her eyes filled with a combination of anguish and passion that twisted his guts. "Help me forget."

 

God, he wanted her--it felt like he'd always wanted her, but not like this. Not when she clearly had doubts regarding him and only wanted the temporary oblivion sex could bring. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her hands free of his shirt and stood up, leaving her sprawled on the sofa. She looked up at him, panting softly, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Dammit all to hell," he swore tiredly, turning his back on her and walking over to the fireplace. Placing his arm on the mantle, he rested his head on his arm and gazed into the flames, hoping that she would just get up and go to her bedroom and lock the door.

 

He heard her stand up and unconsciously held his breath, waiting for the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. Only it never came, instead her arms wrapped around him and she pressed her firm body against his back. He stiffened, but made no move to push her away.

 

"Jack," her voice was muffled and he could just hear the faint catch of tears. "Don't make me beg."

 

With her soft plea, the decision was suddenly very easy. He had failed her in so many ways, not only recently, but in countless other instances when he could have been there for her, but had let duty and regulation guide him instead. He wouldn't make her beg and he wouldn't ignore her need this time, especially since he felt a similar urgency. Gently grasping her wrists, he once more found himself pulling free of her arms, only this time he turned and pulled her into his embrace. Cradling her against him, he gently stroked her back, murmuring into her hair. "You don't have to beg, Sam." She trembled and he slid a hand through her hair, pulling her head back. Her eyes were still shadowed but he could just see the first faint glimmer of hope in their blue depths. "I'll help you forget," he whispered roughly. "I'll help us both forget."

 

Scanning the living room, Jack came to the quick conclusion that the only suitable place to continue this was right where they were, in front of the fire. And while Jack had had many fantasies regarding finally making love to Sam, he was totally unprepared for the wild urgency and passion that flashed out of control at the first touch of his lips on hers. If Sam was desperate to forget, he was just as desperate to help her. The first tentative touch of his lips against hers quickly gave way to unrelenting desire when she immediately opened her mouth, her tongue already probing eagerly against his lips. Groaning her name, he let her in, drowning in pleasure as the deep kisses continued. 

 

Thoughts of slow and easy fled as the mating of their mouths continued. Jack drank deeply from her mouth, only stopping when he felt her hands tugging at his shirt. Pulling free of her arms, Jack swiftly stripped off his shirt. His jeans and boxers quickly followed his shirt to the floor and his hands reached for the hem of Sam's sweatshirt. She gave him a leisurely smile and he felt like he'd taken a punch to the gut! Quickly tugging her sweatshirt off and over her head, his breath caught at the vision before him. She wasn't wearing a bra... and even though he desperately wanted her naked, he paused and reached out an unexpectedly shaky hand and gently fondled her breasts. But it wasn't enough. Easing closer, he lowered his head, sucking a tight bud into his mouth. She gasped softly, her hands suddenly grasping his head as he continued his tender assault. Gliding a sure hand down her side, he managed to tug her jeans partially off her hips before he was forced to release her breast in order to finish the job. Reluctantly releasing her breast, he took a step back and deftly unfastened her jeans and panties, tugging them down her slender hips. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders while she stepped out of the garments and kicked them aside.

 

Oh god, she was magnificent, her pale body taking on a rosy glow as the light from the fire danced across her quivering flesh. Suddenly desperate to have her beneath him, Jack grabbed both her hands and gently tugged her down onto the plush carpet with him. She followed and moved with him, sliding her body against his in what he knew was a deliberate caress. Kneeling, Jack urged Sam down onto her back, sending a silent thank you to Derek for the heavy padding and thick carpet that cushioned his knees—and his lover.

 

Reaching out a surprisingly unsteady hand, Jack feathered his fingers lightly down her breastbone to her belly. She moaned softly, her hips moving automatically towards him. Smiling tightly, Jack covered her, her legs automatically parting for him as he settled his hips against her, his rock hard penis already trying to find a home within her willing body. Sam groaned, moving her hips against him, her hands tugging insistently on his hips. Giving into her wordless request, Jack stroked long fingers through her slick folds, finding her damp and more than ready. 

 

The part of his brain that was still functioning cautioned him to proceed slowly. The passion-swamped portion however, gave into the insistent pleas of his lover and he thrust deep, taking her in one, powerful movement. Sam's soft cry of relief was lost in his answering groan and urging her legs around him, Jack started moving within her. Moving hesitantly at first, it didn't take too long for their bodies to move in synchrony. The snug lure of Sam's body pulled Jack ever deeper and he dimly realized it was going to be over much quicker than he wanted. He tried to slow down, but Sam wouldn't let him, tightening her internal muscles around him and moving even more frantically against him. Praying that her movements meant she was close, Jack gave up trying to control his desire and bracing her with a firm grip on her hips, he started pounding heavily into her.

 

Endless moments later her legs tightened around him, her pelvis arching up to him. Instinctively responding to her movements, Jack thrust deep, grinding his hips against her while she trembled in his arms, her soft gasps telling him of her pleasure. Satisfied with Sam's response, Jack resumed his drive for fulfillment, finally letting his release flow through him. Ecstasy raced out of control as he cried out harshly, emptying himself endlessly in his lover's welcoming body.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sanger was starting to get bored. Watching two people doing nothing was beyond dull. Maybe he'd head back to his car and at least get off the cold ground. And he'd left the small foam cooler there as well, which currently held food more substantial than the candy bars he'd eaten earlier. He picked up the binoculars, preparing to take one final survey before leaving. Focusing on the light shining brightly out of the picture windows in the distance he gasped and almost dropped the binoculars. God, they were...his hands were abruptly shaking as he tried to adjust the focus, his movements hampered by his trembling fingers and his eagerness to get a clearer view. 

 

His mouth was dry and he swallowed, his eyes glued to the large picture window. They were kissing and that man was undressing himself and then her. Rising unsteadily to his feet, trying to keep the kissing couple in focus, Sanger found himself helplessly watching as O'Neill pulled the major's sweatshirt off. Sanger found he was both repulsed and aroused by what he saw happening through the binoculars. Repulsed that she was letting that man touch her, letting him put his mouth on her breasts. And unaccountably aroused by the sight of her pale flesh, the beauty of her face as passion claimed her. Sanger shifted uncomfortably, appalled by his body's instinctive response to the scene playing out before him. The naked couple finally disappeared from view, hidden now by the angle of the windows and the furniture. But not before he had filled his eyes with the vision of her perfect beauty. A physically beautiful body to match the unique brain that would soon be his.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The insistent ringing of the phone woke Luis from an exceptionally nice dream. Rolling over—and trying not to disturb Josie anymore than necessary--he groaned and reached out blindly for the receiver. Finally connecting with it, he held it to his ear, keeping his eyes closed. "Yes?" he growled.

 

Upon hearing the voice on the other end, he sat up, immediately alert and all ears. "Yes, sir," he murmured automatically when Derek stopped talking. "I'll check it out right away." Luis hung up the phone, his mind racing and already planning what needed to be done.

 

"Who was that?" Josie asked sleepily.

 

"Derek," Luis told her, knowing in the long run it was better to be tell his wife what was happening up front than to try and explain later. "Something's come up with Jack and his friend."

 

"Trouble?" Josie asked, sitting up, her hazel eyes full of concern. 

 

Luis got out of the bed, turning on a light and dressing hastily. "I'm not sure." He looked at his wife, "I'm going to do a little reconnaissance, just to be on the safe side."

 

She nodded, her expression serene and Luis knew she wasn't fooled at all. "Be careful."

 

Crossing to her side of the bed, he kissed her. "Aren't I always?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack woke to an uneasy combination of contentment and guilt. Contentment because Sam was snuggled up against his back. Her slow, even breaths washed over the hairs on his nape, her soft breasts pressed against his back, the slender arm curled over him holding him possessively. The guilt though, wouldn't let him enjoy the contentment. The pleasure he'd found in Sam's soft body was tainted by the circumstances of their situation, even beyond the realm of broken regulations. She was wounded and confused, and while she had asked him to make love to her, it had been wrong. He should have been stronger.

 

Carefully extracting himself from her embrace, Jack got out of the bed. Sam sighed and snuggled deeper under the covers, but didn't wake. Taking a quick shower, Jack quietly dressed and left Sam sleeping peacefully. At least he hoped it was peaceful and not filled with dreams of her ordeal. Pulling the covers up over her shoulder, he lightly caressed her cheek. The tenderness and love he felt for her continually surprised him, and while he would never willingly do anything to hurt her, he was very much afraid it was the only thing he had ever done. Brushing her hair off her forehead, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, not sure if he was relieved or not when she didn't wake. 

 

Descending the stairs, Jack made his way to the kitchen, the coffee maker having done its job and Jack poured a cup, looking out the kitchen window. The sun was feebly trying to make its way through he clouds, the gray day somehow mirroring his gloomy thoughts. Things were certainly a fine mess. His intentions when he'd first planned this trip for Sam really didn't matter now, if the only reason she thought he'd brought her here was to get her back to duty as soon as possible. 

 

Gathering his breakfast supplies, Jack poured a bowl of cereal. While getting her back to work was certainly part of his motivation, there as more. And it was the 'more' that he usually kept locked down so tight that he wasn't even cognizant of its presence. Until he'd seen her pain and despair and knew the only thing he could do was to help her. Of course, it hadn't hurt him either, he thought deprecatingly. Even tinged with desperation and pain, making love to her had still been more wondrous than he'd ever imagined. And if they were able to make love under more ideal circumstances, well, it would be indescribable. 

 

Quickly finishing his corn flakes, Jack rinsed the bowl out in the sink, leaving it for later. He wondered if he should wake Sam up or just let her sleep? It had been late by the time that they'd finally gotten to sleep and thankfully, she had come willingly to his bed. He wasn't sure what he would have done if she'd protested. As it was, he had been pleased and worried when she'd eaten some soup and then they had just sat cuddled together on the sofa watching an old spy movie on the TV. It had been nice...but they hadn't talked. Something he knew they'd have to do today, before they got in any deeper. Jack glanced at his watch, it was almost 0830, he decided not to wake her, figuring she'd wake up soon.

 

Grabbing his jacket from the breezeway off the kitchen, Jack headed out the back door, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. He took a deep breath, the fresh clean air with the subtle scent of pine filling his senses. Maybe he could persuade Sam to take a walk later on, if it didn't rain. Given the grayness of the day though, there was no time like the present to get a fire going. Jamming his hands in his pockets, he walked down the wooden steps of the porch, turning the corner of the house and making his way to the lean-to at the back of the chalet where the firewood was stored. Picking up several logs and grabbing a handful of kindling, Jack carefully balanced his load and retraced his steps back to the house. 

 

Jack didn't hear anything until it was too late, the heavy object connecting with incredible force on his upper arm. He groaned, staggering as pain shot through the already injured arm. Dropping the armful of wood, he turned, trying to locate his assailant but it was too late as pain exploded through his head.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sanger was breathing heavily, his heart racing, as he stared down at his victim. Dropping the log he'd used to hit O'Neill with, he only allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction. The fallen man was currently unmoving, but Sanger had no delusions that if he didn't get the stronger and well-trained colonel immobilized now, he'd quickly lose his opportunity. Grabbing O'Neill by his ankles, Sanger dragged his prone body back along the rough grass along the back of the house. It was only about twenty-five yards or so to the outbuildings that nestled in the small stand of pines at the back of the chalet. In spite of the cool air, Sanger was sweating by the time he finally had maneuvered O'Neill to the far side of the small shed.

 

Out of breath, but filled with a sense of urgency, Sanger grabbed the rope he had placed there earlier and roughly grabbed the unmoving man's wrists, binding them tightly behind his back. Shoving O'Neill over onto his back, Sanger bound his feet together and then standing behind the still unconscious man, he grabbed him under his arms and awkwardly dragged him back until O'Neill was leaning against the wall of the shed. Digging into his duffel, Sanger pulled out a roll of duct tape and ripped off about six inches, placing it over O'Neill's mouth. 

 

He stood back then, taking in deep breaths and surveying his captive. His time spent sailing as teen-ager on Puget Sound ensured that the rope binding his prisoner was secure. The duct tape conveniently preventing him from crying out a warning, if he regained consciousness. And Sanger really hoped he would. After what he'd witnessed the previous evening, he especially wanted the colonel to be conscious when Major Carter finally surrendered to him. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam woke slowly and to the reluctant realization that she was alone in the bed. Rolling over she looked around the unfamiliar room for a clock, finally spotting one on the far bedside table. 9:00 glowed brightly at her. Had she really slept that long? They had gone to bed and to sleep, well after midnight, and even though they had only made love that one time, it had been a given that she would sleep in his bed and his arms. Probably part of the reason she'd slept so well, she mused. For beyond the physical exhaustion and intense pleasure there had been an unexpected contentment. And while she wasn't so foolish as to believe having sex with Jack was the cure for her current problem, it had soothed something nameless deep within her.

 

Yawning and stretching, she decided to get up. She was actually feeling kind of hungry and hopefully there would still be some coffee left by the time she finished her shower! Eager to see Jack, Sam rushed through her shower, only towel drying her hair before heading down to the kitchen. Pausing in the main room, Sam looked outside, the mountains were shrouded in low clouds this morning. The fire had died down during the night and it was surprisingly cool in the room. It was odd that Jack hadn't started the fire up again. 

 

"Jack?" Sam pushed open the door to the kitchen, expecting to see him. But the room was also empty. A few dirty dishes piled in the sink indicated he'd been there, as well as the half full coffeepot. Not worrying overly, Sam decided he'd gone for a walk, and decided to have some coffee. Rooting around in the refrigerator, she found a small container of yogurt and sat down at the table, eating her simple breakfast and waiting for Jack.

 

Two cups of coffee later, Jack still hadn't appeared and Sam was starting to get worried. It wasn't like him to just take off without leaving some kind of note. A new thought suddenly occurred to her, that maybe he was hurt. Rushing back up the stairs, she quickly put on her shoes and grabbed her coat, heading back down the stairs and out the kitchen door. 

 

"Jack?" she called, walking around the side of the chalet to where she knew the woodpile was. Turning the corner, she almost tripped over a pile of kindling and a few logs that lay scattered on the ground. Her heart racing, she carefully looked around, the trampled grass and footsteps in the dirt telling her all she needed know. Jack had been here--and so had someone else. She didn't even stop to think, but raced back into the chalet and up to Jack's bedroom. Dragging his duffel out of the closet, she quickly found what she was looking for--his gun. She'd seen him pack it and had actually wondered why he would bring his gun on what was technically a vacation, but now she was thankful he had. Loading the clip, she tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans and went in search of her lover.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack's head lolled back, connecting soundly with something hard. Rousing, he started to panic, struggling for breath, until realized what had happened. His mouth was taped shut, so he concentrated on taking slow deep breaths through his nose. Keeping his eyes closed, he let awareness slowly return, not fighting the pain that was filtering into his consciousness. Continuing to breathe deeply, he did a head-to-toe check. Head--aching, he had a vague recollection of intense pain on the back of his skull before total unconsciousness. His injured arm ached and he wondered idly if the wound had opened up again. His arms were bound behind his back. He moved his hands experimentally, no give in the rough rope binding them. He was sitting, propped against something. He shifted his legs slightly; no pain, but his ankles were bound as well. So, he was well and truly captured. It only remained to be seen who his captor was.

 

Cautiously opening his eyes, Jack tried to focus, blinking against the faint sunlight until his vision cleared. The garage was to his right, which meant he was leaning against the small shed immediately adjacent to it. Carefully turning his head towards the direction of the chalet, Jack saw his captor for the first time. He couldn't place the stout, balding man who was dressed in dark-colored pants and a navy windbreaker. The man looked up from the duffel he had been digging through, his frown turning into a smile. 

 

"Ah, you're awake! Very good." The man stood and Jack saw the gun in his hand for the first time. This wasn't good at all. The man walked closer to him, but Jack noted he still kept a safe distance from him. "You don't recognize me, do you?" All Jack could do was shake his head no.

 

"Ah well, you did only see me for the briefest of moments." The man continued to grin at him, gesturing with the hand holding the gun. "Doctor Victor Sanger, at your service."

 

It took him a moment, but Jack finally placed the name, from his conversation with Daniel less than forty-eight hours earlier, "You were already gone when this Doctor Sanger tried to attack Sam.". His eyes must have given him away because the stranger's grin immediately widened and he said happily, "I see you do remember me!"

 

Sanger continued his cheerful monologue. "You've led me on a merry chase, Colonel. Spiriting Major Carter away like you did and just when I was so close to reclaiming her! But I found you." Sanger's voice changed and his eyes hardened behind his glasses. "And I will have Major Carter." Sanger paused; studying him Jack thought, much like a scientist studies a rather disagreeable specimen. "How long do you think it will take for your whore to come looking for you?" Sanger finally sneered at him.

 

Enraged at the man's words, Jack struggled impotently against his restraints, only to immediately stop when the cold muzzle of the handgun was pressed against his throat. "Was it good?" The doctor's voice had changed, becoming less controlled and a faint hint of madness was gleaming in his eyes, causing Jack's blood to run cold. "Did she scream your name while you used her?" Sanger pressed the gun harder against his neck, forcing Jack to turn his head, only to be stopped by the rough wood of the shed. The other man leaned closer until his breath blew hotly across Jack's cheek. "Will she scream your name when I kill her?" Jack felt rage pour through him, a harsh growl breaking free from behind his gag and he found himself automatically struggling against the ropes binding him.

 

Sanger laughed and abruptly stood back up, stepping away from him. The sick feeling in Jack's gut grew as he watched Sanger transform back into the jovial man who had greeted him so cheerfully when he'd regained consciousness. A sane individual they might have had hope of reaching somehow. But the good doctor was far from sane. 

 

"You won't get free, Colonel." Sanger winked at him, "But keep trying, if it makes you feel any better." Sanger didn't say anything more, just grinned at him and turned his attention back towards the direction of the chalet. The slamming of the backdoor was loud in the clear air and Jack's heart stopped when he heard Sam's unmistakable voice calling his name. Sanger turned, his smile malevolent this time, and whispered sotto voce, "It won't be long now."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sanger was nearly giddy with anticipation. His plan was working just like magic! It had been surprisingly easy to subdue the Colonel and now Major Carter was doing just what he wanted, she was coming for her lover. But she was taking too long! He'd left an obvious trail for her to follow! The bitch should have been here by now! Forcing his anger back down, Sanger tightened his grip on his stolen handgun and waited. 

 

"Jack?" 

 

She was just on the other side of the garage. Quickly stepping back to O'Neill, Sanger pointed the gun at O'Neill's head and waited impatiently for Major Carter to find him. He didn't have to wait long when first a gun, which surprised him, and then the rest of Major Carter appeared around the far corner of the building. She didn't see him at first, her gun lowering slightly as she cried out sharply, "Jack!"

 

But then she did see him, for she suddenly stopped and her gun was pointing right at him. But of course, his gun was now pressing quite nicely against the colonel's head. She really wouldn't have any other choice, would she? 

 

"Major Carter, so nice to see you again."

 

He was pleased when she paled and while she held the gun steady, her voice quivered nicely when she asked him, "What have you done to him?"

 

Keeping his gun pressed against O'Neill's head Sanger answered her. "I haven't done anything to him, Major. And I won't, as long as you cooperate."

 

"What do you mean?" The rest of the color had drained out of her face, so Sanger knew she had understood his implied intent.

 

"Really, Major, I would have thought to someone of your superior intelligence, it would be quite obvious." He wagged his head playfully at her, enjoying teasing her. "I'm here for you," he told her, his voice suddenly hard. "And I won't be cheated out of discovering your secrets this time. So, throw your gun down and come quietly with me and no harm will come to your lover."

 

She stood there doing nothing and Sanger started to lose his patience. "Really now, Major. Hurry up! Do you want me to kill him?"

 

The threat seemed to rouse her. "No, don't hurt him...I'll come with you." Holding the gun with her left hand, she slowly moved her arm and tossed the gun aside.

 

"Good girl," Sanger told her, triumph flooding through him. He finally had her back and would soon uncover all her secrets! He still had one small thing to do, though. "You've been very cooperative, Major Carter, and I appreciate that. I won't even hold it against you that you've been spreading your legs for the good colonel." Much to his delight she flinched, yes, he would enjoy dissecting her. "But I still think I'm going to kill O'Neill. It's his fault that a great man like Adrian Conrad is still a Goa'uld and he's caused me nothing but trouble ever since I decided to get you back."

 

"No!" she screamed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Luis heard the woman scream and knew it was time to act. Lining up his target in the crosshairs of the rifle's scope, he took a deep breath and let it halfway out and pulled the trigger. Blood blossomed on Sanger's right shoulder and he cried out, reflexively dropping the gun that he held at O'Neill's head. Sanger staggered off and Luis took off at a trot down the small ridge, not too worried that the plump man would get very far on foot--especially wounded. By the time Luis reached the outbuildings, the woman had started freeing O'Neill, the duct tape that had been across his mouth already gone. But as soon as she saw him, she leveled one of the guns at him.

 

"Just stop right there." Her voice quivered slightly, but Luis was only filled with admiration for her as she positioned herself between him and O'Neill.

 

Holding his arms out, and his rifle pointed down, he stopped. "I'm Luis Martinez, ma'am."

 

"Luis, is that you?" 

 

Luis grinned, glad O'Neill was with it enough to recognize him. "Yeah, Jack...what the hell kind of mess have you gotten yourself and your lady in?" The woman shifted then and Luis saw O'Neill clearly for the first time. 

 

"Help me, Sam," the bound man commanded. The woman still seemed hesitant, until O'Neill said softly, "Luis is a friend." Putting her gun in the waistband of her jeans, the woman knelt behind O'Neill and finished untying him. Luis crossed over to the duo while O'Neill untied his ankles and then held out his hand to him, helping Jack to his feet. The other man didn't look like he was injured too badly, though there was some dried blood visible in his gray hair and his right arm.

 

"Luis, mi compadre!" O'Neill slowly moved his right arm, grasping Luis' hand in a cautious grip. "Riding to the rescue in just the nick of time, as usual." Luis looked at his friend a bit more closely, just now beginning to see the lines of pain around his mouth and eyes. He'd have to be sure and check Jack out later.

 

Luis grinned. "Glad to be of service. Speaking of which," Luis pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "Let me call the sheriff and then I better find that gringo I shot before he bleeds himself to death."

 

"Okay," Jack agreed, "but when you're finished with him, you have to come back and tell us how you happened to be lurking about with your rifle."

 

"You bet, Jack." He nodded at Sam, who had stood quietly in the background during their entire conversation. "And when I get back I'm going to check out that arm of yours and that thick head." Jack frowned and Luis quickly added, holding up his phone. "Unless you want me to call a doctor?"

 

Jack smiled slightly, "No, no doctor. It's not that bad." 

 

Luis nodded, "I figured that's what you'd say. You'd better get yourself and your lady inside now." The woman blushed slightly, Luis noted. Of even more interest though, was the sudden narrowing in O'Neill's eyes when he referred to the blonde as 'your lady'. Luis watched the two of them with more curiosity now, as they walked away, O'Neill's good arm wrapping protectively around the woman's shoulders.

 

So maybe Josie had been right. Smiling, Luis turned back to where he had last seen Sanger. "Okay, mi amigo, let's see what kind of trail you've left me."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam sat at the head of the stairs, unashamedly eavesdropping on Luis and Jack. She had a good view of the two men from her perch, as they sat together on the sofa, drinking coffee and talking, a fire finally burning merrily in the fireplace. Luis' pitch black hair contrasting vividly with Jack's gray head of hair. She figured Luis was a few years older than Jack, and based on his actions since she'd met him, kept himself in perfect physical condition. She'd retired to the upstairs rooms after watching Luis clean and dress Jack's arm, where Sanger's blow had partially reopened the healing bullet wound. She'd watched carefully until she'd been satisfied that Luis knew what he was doing, impressed with his skillful and gentle touch. Of course, the man's knowing smile and twinkle in his almost black eyes when he caught her watching him, had told her he saw way too much. 

 

She was more worried about Jack's head than his arm, but he easily passed the quick field neuro check Luis administered. And that, along with Jack's usual complaining, reassured her that he wasn't injured that badly. The extent of his injury mainly seemed to be some abrasions and a nice goose egg on the back of his head--along with a headache. She'd listened carefully to Luis' instructions and written down his cell phone number, just in case they needed it during the night. 

 

Jack's laughter drew her attention back to the two men. "Shit, you're telling me Tony's graduated from college already?"

 

Luis laughed as well. "Yeah, Jack. And Corrie's married, going to have a baby in three months."

 

"You're going to be a grandpa? Well, I'll be damned."

 

"Yeah, well, the kids grow up and then start having kids of their own."

 

Jack didn't say anything and Sam felt a twist of pain, knowing Jack was thinking about his son who wouldn't grow up. But, the silence between the two men then wasn't uncomfortable, which told her that the two of them had shared much together in the past. Jack finally broke the silence. "So, you haven't told me yet why you were here with your rifle, just in the nick of time to save me from getting my head blown off?"

 

"Jerry called me." 

 

Sam searched her memory, eventually remembering that the pilot who had brought them here was named Jerry.

 

"Seems this gringo had been at the airfield the other night after the three of you took off to come here and started pumping Marco, the kid who works there, for information. Marco's a trusting kid and didn't think anything about telling the man about where the plane was going, especially after Sanger--that's his name, right?" Sam heard Jack murmur something affirmative. "Told Marco that the woman was sick and he was her doctor and needed to find her. Gave him fifty bucks, too."

 

"Well, like I said, Marco's a trusting kid but something about the look in the guy's eyes bugged him, at least that's what he told Jerry, so as soon as Jerry got back from dropping you off here, Marco told him the whole story. So, Jerry called me, I called Derek and he made a few calls."

 

"And?"

 

Luis laughed. "Hell, Jack, I know--'classified'. All Derek could find out from his contacts was that there had been some trouble in Seattle involving an unidentified woman, two doctors who were brought up on kidnapping charges and a missing millionaire industrialist. Oh, and that one of the doctors had been released due to a 'clerical error'."

 

Luis stopped for a moment and took a swallow of his coffee. "So, it seemed prudent to start a little surveillance of my own, and lo and behold, early this morning I discovered a stolen car parked on a fire road about two miles from the chalet. I tracked him down to here, and well, you know the rest."

 

"You could have just called or come by," Jack pointed out.

 

"I did try to call, but kept getting the voice mail."

 

Jack's voice sounded moderately guilty. "Guess I forgot to turn it back on after we got off the plane the other night."

 

"And, I didn't want to interrupt anything."

 

Sam would have paid good money to see the look on Jack's face when Luis made that comment. But there was only a long pause, while both men drank their coffee, and then Luis spoke again.

 

"So, your lady, she'll be okay?"

 

Sam's lips curved in a soft smile. 'Your lady', she kind of liked the way that sounded, even though before this moment she would have decked anyone who would have described her as any man's lady. But when Luis said it, it sounded right. Realizing Jack hadn't said anything, she waited anxiously for his reply. "Yeah, she's okay. She's tough."

 

Luis grunted and apparently that was all Jack was going to say about her. Luis stood then and Sam quickly hurried down the stairs, belatedly realizing it would be rude to let him leave without thanking him for saving Jack's life. The two men were already at the back door by the time she made it down the stairs. 

 

"Be sure and stop by the ranch before you leave, Jack. Josie will kill me if she doesn't at least get to see you...and meet Sam."

 

"Okay, Luis, I will." Jack saw her then. "Sam."

 

Luis turned, transferring his hat to his left hand and holding his hand out to her. "Been a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

 

Sam smiled softly and held out her hand. The huge hand that engulfed hers was rough from outdoor work, yet surprisingly gentle. This was a man who obviously knew his own strength. "I just wanted to thank you, for what you did, saving Jack."

 

"My pleasure, ma'am." He released her hand after squeezing it gently. "I'm just sorry I let it progress as far as it did, but it looked like you were doing pretty good on your own there."

 

Her smile faded, but she couldn't let him leave thinking she had anything to do with saving Jack. "If you hadn't acted when you did, both Jack and I would be dead."

 

"But, we're not," Jack murmured.

 

She glanced briefly at him, but his expression was neutral, giving nothing away. And if Luis was curious about the undercurrents flowing between the two of them, he didn't say anything, merely smiled graciously at her. 

 

"Well, as I said, it was my pleasure." Luis turned to Jack then. "If you're up to it, I'd appreciate a lift to my truck, amigo."

 

"Not a problem." Jack grabbed his jacket, gingerly pulling it on. He looked her. "You'll be okay?"

 

She was both annoyed and touched by his concern. "I'll be fine." She wasn't really, but this was hardly the time or place to go into that.

 

Luis put on his hat and nodded at her before going out the door. Jack paused for a moment, glancing back at her. "I won't be long." 

 

Sam locked the door behind him, glad that Jack's gun was on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, she took it with her into the living room, curling up on the sofa, she waited for Jack's return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shit, he was tired, the events of the morning catching up with him. And then the lecture from Luis hadn't helped. Hell, he knew he had fucked up royally by not taking the news of Sanger's release/escape--whatever, more seriously. And his screw up had almost cost Sam her life--again. His head and arm were aching from where Sanger had hit him and he was feeling worse than he'd really wanted to admit to Luis or Sam. Shit...Sam. If that wasn't an even more fucked up mess. Sleeping with Sam had been the best and worst thing he'd ever done. And then there had been Sanger and the little tidbit of information he'd shared about watching them make love, calling Sam his whore. Of course, that wasn't any worse than what any number of other people would call her if it were found out that they'd had sex. His great plan of helping her had ended up with the two of them ignoring regulations and almost gotten her killed.

 

Parking the Suburban outside the small garage, Jack walked slowly to the backdoor of the chalet. Turning the doorknob, he discovered it was locked. Shit, he didn't have the house keys with him, the minor inconvenience grating more than usual. "Sam?" he hollered, pounding on the door. She must have been in the kitchen because the door opened almost immediately; he followed her in, hanging his jacket up in the small breezeway off the kitchen. She didn't say anything, for which he was thankful, brushing past her on his way up the stairs. 

 

"Jack?" 

 

She wasn't far behind him as he entered the master bedroom and went immediately into the bathroom. Grabbing his kit, he started digging around it. "Where the hell is the ibuprofen," he growled.

 

"Here." She reached over his hand and immediately found the bottle, placing it in his hand.

 

"Thanks," he muttered ungraciously, snatching the bottle from her. Opening it, he tipped out four of the little tablets, swallowing them down without any water.

 

"Jack?" 

 

Leaning his hands on the sink, he turned his head and looked at her. She was starting to get that wounded look again and he just couldn't deal with her feelings right now. Not until he'd gotten better control of the turmoil roiling inside him and gotten rid of his pounding headache. "Sam--not right now, okay? My head is killing me. I want to get cleaned up and then take a nap."

 

Her wounded look turned to one of concern. "Is that wise, Jack? You know what Luis said."

 

"Yes," he retorted sharply. "I know all about head injuries. I'll be fine. Check on me later if you want. Just leave me alone now." 

 

She nodded, her blue eyes once more shadowed. "Whatever you want." And with that, she left the bathroom. 

 

Jack heard the bedroom door close quietly behind her and swore softly. He was in a rotten mood and taking it on her. Hell, he wasn't the only one who'd been through an ordeal today. The vivid memory of Sam telling Sanger she'd go with him if wouldn't hurt him haunted him, one of his worst nightmares coming to life. Wincing as the abused muscles in his injured arm protested while he pulled off his shirt, he turned the water on, letting it warm up. He'd rest and then he'd apologize to her. And he hoped like hell that an apology would suffice for fucking up her life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam paced the kitchen, frustrated with the uncharacteristic indecision plaguing her. Jack had either been asleep, or shut up in the bedroom, for almost four hours. She needed to check on him, to make sure he wasn't have any after-effects from his blow on the head. He also hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. The saucepan on the stove bubbled away happily, heating up the soup. She had made a sandwich and the tray was all prepared, just waiting for her to get up enough courage to face Jack. She hated being this way, her inertia reminding her too much of the days she'd spent locked away in her house after returning from Seattle. 

 

Sometime during the long hours spent alone, she had come to the conclusion that the only reason Jack could have had for bringing her here was to protect her from Sanger. And now that Sanger was back in custody and no longer a threat, Jack would take her back to the Springs. She wondered miserably how having sex with her had figured into his plans to protect her. Oh wait, that had been her idea, she had practically forced him into making love to her. 

 

But that still didn't alter the fact that he had almost died because of her today. And the longer she dithered down here, trying to decide whether to wake him or not, only made things worse if he wasn't okay. She'd rather have him alive and yelling at her than dead and silent. And besides, she thought dully, she needed to reassure him that he needn't feel obligated to protect her any longer and that it was okay to send her home. Turning off the burner, Sam ladled a healthy serving of the vegetable soup into a bowl, setting it on the tray with the ham sandwich she'd concocted from the plentiful supplies in the kitchen. 

 

"Hey." 

 

Startled, Sam turned around, almost dropping the ladle. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard him enter the kitchen. Carefully setting the ladle back on its rest, she took a few moments to compose herself, wiping her hands on a towel. 

 

"Smells good," he offered, stepping further into the room. He seemed almost hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how she would greet him.

 

"How do you feel?" she finally asked, relieved that he had come to her.

 

"Hungry."

 

She smiled slightly. Hunger was a good sign but she still needed to check a few other things, remembering Luis' instructions. "How's your head?" she asked, stepping closer to him and willing her hand to be steady when she reached out and touched his chin, turning his face towards the light. His skin was warm and dry--his days' growth of whiskers rough against her fingertips. She noted with relief that his deep brown eyes were clear, the pupils equal and not dilated. Her gaze lingered on his face, her hand still gently cupping his jaw. All she could think at that moment was that she loved him so much and had almost lost him—again.

 

"Do I pass?" he finally murmured, breaking her reverie.

 

"Yes," she stuttered, quickly dropping her hand from his chin. "Pupils fine, motor function seems fine and you do know where you are?"

 

"Oh yeah," he replied dryly. "I know exactly where I am."

 

She flushed a bit, warmth flooding her cheeks, wondering if he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable, or if she was reading too much into his comment. "I was just going to bring this up to you," she said, indicating the tray filled with food.

 

"Looks good," he said. Going over to the counter and sniffing the soup. "Shall we eat in the living room?"

 

"Sure," she replied. "I'll fix another tray." He nodded and picked up the tray, heading out to the living room. Sam quickly fixed another tray, this time with just soup. She wasn't that hungry, the butterflies in her stomach competing for attention with any hunger pangs she might have been experiencing. She didn't know why she was feeling so nervous, he seemed over his grouchy mood. All she had to do was tell him that she understood why he'd brought her here and that it was okay to send her back to the Springs. Of course, that was the last thing she wanted to do, leave here and ignore what had transpired between them. But then experience had taught her that she was unlikely to get what she wanted—especially as far as Jack O'Neill was concerned.

 

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her tray and went to join Jack in the living room. He was seated on the sofa, the tray on the coffee table. She was pleased to note that he'd already finished half of his ham sandwich, evidently he had been hungry. He almost smiled around a mouthful of food when she sat down on the other end of the sofa. Balancing her tray on her lap, she stirred her soup, stalling for time.

 

"It's usually better to eat the soup," he told her, waving his spoon at her.

 

She started guiltily and looked at him. "I guess I'm not that hungry," she confessed, setting the tray next to his, on the coffee table. Okay, the sooner she got this over with the sooner the butterflies would leave her stomach, she hoped. Perching on the edge of the sofa and she had just opened her mouth when he spoke again.

 

"Josie's a good cook."

 

"Josie?"

 

"Luis' wife, she made the soup." Sam nodded, that made sense.

 

"And thanks," he gestured toward the tray, "for fixing me dinner. After the way I acted earlier, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't."

 

"That's okay," she smiled, accepting his apology. "I know you weren't feeling well, and you're not the best of patients." He chuckled, apparently agreeing with her assessment.

 

"Ah," she murmured, still trying to figure out the best way to ask him. She really didn't want to ruin their fragile truce, but she really needed to know the answer. "So, I guess we'll be leaving in the morning?" She gave him a cautious look, almost regretting bringing up the subject when his eyes lost their amused look, his whole demeanor suddenly changing. But what surprised her was that it wasn't anger that filled his eyes, but confusion. 

 

"What makes you think we'll be leaving in the morning?"

 

It was her turn to be confused, but she pulled herself together, automatically snapping into the security of military mode. "Now that the threat against me has been neutralized, I assumed we'd be returning to the Springs."

 

"I wasn't planning on us leaving just yet, Sam."

 

"I...well," she fumbled for the words, totally puzzled by his answer, but she forged on. "With Sanger back in custody, there's no reason for you to hide me out here."

 

He didn't say anything for the longest time and Sam was just trying to figure out a way to gracefully remove herself from the conversation and the room when he finally replied. "I didn't bring you here to protect you, Sam," he rumbled. "I brought you here because just once I wanted to be there for you! Hell, I didn't even know Sanger had escaped custody until I called Daniel from the airfield!" He scrubbed his hand over his face. "And as for protecting you, well, I certainly did a hell of a job doing that now, didn't I?"

 

Her heart suddenly started beating faster. So, he hadn't brought her here to protect her? He wanted to be there for her? Her heart warmed at his confession, but she needed to reassure him regarding Sanger. "You had no reason to think he'd come after me, Jack."

 

He glared at her. "Worst-case scenario. It's what I do. But did I do it this time?" He snorted, "Hell no. I let my personal feelings cloud my judgement."

 

She felt her heart start to sink with his last words. Personal feelings...feelings he had for her? Clouding his judgment? "Jack," she floundered briefly, not sure what to say to him. "It didn't happen, we're both okay."

 

"Dammit, Sam! Do you know how close we both were to not being okay? If this kid Marco hadn't thought something was wrong, if Jerry hadn't called Luis, if Luis hadn't been on the hillside at that precise moment with his rifle, we'd both be dead." He stood up then, clearly agitated. Stalking over to the fireplace, he looked down at it for a moment before looking back at her. His deadly quiet voice sent chills up her spine. "And what the hell did you think you were doing, offering yourself to Sanger in trade for me?"

 

"I was--"

 

"You weren't using that famous brain of yours," he interrupted, "if you actually thought Sanger would make good on his promise to release me if you went with him."

 

Okay, now that made her see red, the butterflies disappearing instantly as she stood, crossing to stand right in front of him. He stood straighter, the closer she got, his whole stance radiating anger. The funny thing was, she didn't think it was directed at her, but she needed to set a few things straight with him. "It was the only thing I could think of that would buy us some more time. And besides, when did Jack O'Neill get to be the only one who could make that kind of sacrifice? Don't you know?" 

 

She searched his dark eyes, looking for some kind of understanding or acknowledgement of what she was trying to say. But they remained cool and remote. Obviously, she had once more read too much into his actions. Her anger fled rapidly, his distant expression discouraging her. Shoulders slumping, she turned away from him tiredly sat back down on the sofa. "Or maybe you've forgotten," she muttered.

 

"Forgotten what?" His harsh question breaking the still of the room.

 

She sighed. It didn't really matter anymore, but she wouldn't lie to him. Sitting up and looking at him, she tried to answer calmly, the slight quiver in her voice giving her away though. "That I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety." She gave a brittle sounding laugh, feeling the desperation start to rise back up again. "I know I haven't really shown that to you much lately, but I will do anything for you. I'll go back to the way things were, be your 'tool'." His expression never changed. "I'll even go with a madman if it means you'll be safe."

 

"Sam, I don't want you throwing your life away for me."

 

"Well, respectfully sir, that's just too damn bad." Suspecting they were now talking on two different levels, she continued, "Because I don't think I am throwing my life away."

 

His eyes became even more distant, his mouth tightening. She was losing him, it was going to take more...and even though it frightened her, the prospect of not having him frightened her more than his anger. Finding an unexpected reserve of strength, she stood up again and deliberately walked over to him, pressing up against his back and wrapping her arms around him, like she had done that night. God, had it only been yesterday? So much had happened.... Nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder blade she spoke. "I love you." His entire body went tense against hers and she tightened her arms around him. "And god knows, I've given you reason enough to doubt me, the way things have been between us lately." She took a deep breath, her voice breaking, "Whether you want it or not, you are my life, Jack." Sam felt the tears start welling in her eyes, the last of her energy draining out of her with her admission, the events of the day finally catching up with her.

 

Her world spun and she suddenly found herself wrapped in his arms, held securely against his chest, one hand cradling her head against his shoulder. His voice was harsh with emotion and he almost crushed the breath out of her, his arms tightening around her slender frame. "God knows, Sam, I don't want you throwing your life away on me. But I'm a selfish bastard and I'll take whatever you have to give me. You've never been a tool to me, Sam," he murmured. He loosened his arms and she pulled back slightly, seeing the truth in his eyes. "Just be who you've always been..." his lips brushed her forehead. "My Sam." Her eyes fluttered shut when he brushed butterfly kisses across her lids. "My Carter." She couldn't help the small smile his last statement evoked and then his lips found hers and he whispered, "My love."

 

She melted against him, her tense body conforming itself to his while he pressed soft kisses to her lips. She moaned a breathy protest, her mouth seeking his, but he merely smiled and evaded her, continuing to kiss her tears away. Jack cradled her with one hand on curved possessively on her firm butt; the fingers of his other hand threading through her short hair, holding her head at just the right angle when his lips finally returned to hers. His mouth closed hungrily on hers and Sam wrapped her arms around his shoulders while he probed at her still-closed lips with his tongue. She sighed softly, her mouth opening for him as he deepened the kiss. Oh god, he tasted so good; she teased his tongue with tentative caresses of her own, the tender touches somehow at odds with the frantic mating they had shared less than twenty-four hours ago. But then this was different...this wasn't need driven by despair, seeking forgetfulness. This was passion born of mutual love and desire and respect.

 

She wanted more, running her hands down his side, she tugged anxiously at his shirt, finally separating it from his trousers. Sliding a cool hand up his back, she caressed the firm muscles, pressing closer to him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. She whimpered in dismay when he broke the kiss, his hands fastening on her wrists just as she'd started working his belt.

 

"Sam, love," he murmured, his voice deep with humor and affection. "There's no rush. And as much as I'm enjoying this...my head is starting to pound again and I just don't think I've got the energy."

 

Her eyes widened and then filled with tender concern. "I'm sorry," she murmured, wondering how she could have forgotten that he was hurt! She smiled softly, his kisses certainly were potent. Caressing his cheek, she replied, "Well, you did say we were staying longer...."

 

"We have all evening," he kissed her slowly. "We have all night," he murmured against her lips, and she marveled at the wonder of having him in her arms. "We have the rest of our lives."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack woke up slowly, enjoying the feel of Sam wrapped around him. Reaching out, he fumbled for the bedside clock, 0700. He had slept almost ten hours! He never slept that long! But evidently he had. Jack had vague memories of being herded gently up the stairs, gentle hands efficiently stripping him down to his T-shirt and boxers and then being tucked securely in the bed. He really hadn't meant to fall asleep right after dinner, and their conversation, but between the physical and emotional stress of the day, he had fallen asleep during a program on the History Channel. Of course, the fact that he'd been laying on the sofa with his head in Sam's lap, while she rubbed his head, might have had something to do with it as well. 

 

He'd been exhausted last night, but right now he felt pretty good. Pulling carefully out of Sam's arms, he sat up and rotated his right arm and shoulder. Not too bad, only pulled a little bit. His head didn't hurt either, though he could still feel a goose egg when he ran his fingers over the back of his head. 

 

"Feeling better?"

 

"Yeah," he smiled at Sam, who was now propped up on one elbow watching him. "I didn't mean to wake you."

 

She yawned. "No, it's okay." She sat up then, the sheet and blankets falling away, revealing the flimsy baby blue camisole top she wore, that did little to hide the outline of her breasts and revealed such a lovely expanse of her beautiful neck and shoulders. Her lips slowly curved into a smile, "I’m glad you're awake...and feeling better." She scooted closer to him, and he found himself holding his breath when she reached out and casually ran her hand down his chest before resting it on his thigh. She leaned closer, her lips just brushing his and whispered, "I seem to remember we have some unfinished business from last night."

 

"Never let it be said that Jack O'Neill left something undone," he murmured, pleased that she was making the first move and he teased her in return with soft, fleeting kisses. She crowded closer and Jack wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him. She melted against him and lowering her down onto the bed, Jack covered her body with his and continued to kiss her. Long, deep and never-ending kisses, his tongue dancing with hers, luring her to return the seductive touches. Wedging a knee between her pajama-clad legs, Jack groaned when her nails lightly dug through his T-shirt into the firm muscles of his shoulders, her hips unconsciously rocking against him. Her unrestrained response was rapidly pushing him over the edge. He didn't want it to end too soon though. "Easy," he murmured against her lips. "There's no rush."

 

Jack ignored her small whimper of protest when he pulled free of her arms and abruptly sat up, straddling her hips, stripping his T-shirt off, his resolve to go slow almost crumbling at the blatant look of approval from his lover. God, she was so beautiful, her eyes were sleepy and dazed with passion, her cheeks flushed and her lips red and inviting. She smiled, arching her back, the movement showing off the fine line of her throat and thrusting her breasts towards him. The camisole rose up as well, the inviting expanse of bare flesh now exposed to him prompting Jack to touch and feel...and need more. Gliding his large hands under the silky top, he shoved it up until his hands encountered the soft swell of her breasts. He paused for a moment, torn between wanting her naked and the need to fondle and caress her sweet flesh. And then she moaned his name, the blatant plea in that one word deciding for him as he tugged the camisole up and off.

 

She lay before him and he gazed at her in wonder. He only had indistinct memories of their first encounter, the urgency and desperation--on both their parts--driving out everything but the need for consummation. He knew her breasts had been sweet to his touch, but he had forgotten just how beautiful they were. Her skin creamy and so smooth; reaching out with a hand that trembled, his fingertips glided effortlessly across her soft skin. Her nipples were a delicate pink that seemed to glow and take on a rosier hue as they tightened beneath his gaze and his touch.

 

Cradling a breast in each hand, he drew his thumbs across her nipples. Sam's soft gasp drew his gaze to her face. Her eyes were closed; her lips parted slightly, a look of intense pleasure washing over her features. Jack repeated the twin caresses, slightly harder this time and she moaned again, only this time it was his name. Not that he needed more encouragement, but her obvious pleasure at his touch satisfied something deep inside him. God, he knew he was going all primitive and caveman, but he couldn't help it. She was his and he would once more claim her in the most basic way possible!

 

Lowering his head to her breast, Jack finally took one tight bud into his mouth. First lightly teasing with tender touches of his tongue and teeth, he waited until she was trembling beneath him before sucking the taut peek deep in his mouth, suckling with insistent pressure. Sam's helpless response sent the blood straight to his groin, causing Jack to move helplessly against her, rubbing his cloth-covered erection against her thigh. And she helped him, bending her knee slightly, where he straddled her leg. Her hands were running through his hair, caressing his shoulders, his arms, wherever she could reach.

 

Sam didn't seem pleased when he released her breast; her hands tugged ineffectually at his shoulders when he sat up. She was however, pleased when his hands went to the drawstring tie of her pajama bottoms, if her whimpered, "Yes" was any indication. His hands were shaking so, he barely got the tie undone, eagerness and hunger making him clumsy. Thank god the ends didn't get knotted and Sam helped by lifting her butt and hips when he finally tugged the pajamas down and off her long legs. She lay open before him then; her knees bent with her feet resting on either side of him as he knelt between her wantonly spread legs. The mixture of lust and love that he'd somehow kept under control roared through him when Sam raised herself up on one elbow; one slim hand feathering down his chest and abdomen to tug at the waistband of his boxers. As much as he liked the path her hand was taking, Jack had different ideas. Gently grasping her wrist, he carefully placed her hand back down at her side. 

 

"What?" she whispered dazedly. Her confused look rapidly changing to one of languorous desire when his fingers trailed up her inner thighs in a smooth caress. His fingers brushed against the soft flesh exposed to him and she sighed, lying back down. Stroking carefully, he smiled tightly when her hips jerked against his hand and she whimpered, "Yes, Jack...."

 

Satisfied with her capitulation, Jack lay down between her firm thighs and continued to leisurely fondle her until he found what he sought. He barely heard her soft moan of pleasure when his fingers brushed her clitoris, but her breathy cry sounded clearly when his mouth fastened onto the tender bud. Wrapping a firm hand around one thigh and using the other to aid in his task, Jack applied himself to pleasuring Sam with the same determination he used when mounting the plans for a special op. And even though it had been awhile since he'd undertaken this particular type of campaign, he was certainly no novice. Tenderly caressing her with his teeth and his tongue, Jack used all his formidable skill to bring her to the peak of pleasure. Nipping and then sucking gently, he was rewarded when the hand resting on his head suddenly gripped his hair and she moaned his name. Sliding his fingers lower, he sought out her tender opening and teased her with soft, probing touches that had her arching her hips uncontrollably towards him. 

 

"Jack," she wailed, he pleading cry merely inciting him to increase the intensity of his caresses. Endless moments later she cried out sharply and he knew he'd achieved his goal as his lover slowly unraveled for him. Her hand tightened almost painfully in his hair while she bucked against him, but he firmly held her, not releasing her until she lay spent and quivering beneath his hands and mouth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Oh god, she was barely conscious...but then consciousness was highly over-rated, Sam decided when her lover's mouth captured hers in a searing kiss. She would gladly stay in this state forever if it meant having Jack's mouth on hers, his naked body pressing her into the soft mattress. She shifted, wrapping her arms and legs around him, moaning into his mouth when his penis brushed tantalizingly against her still throbbing flesh. When had he taken off his boxers? It really didn't matter, she realized vaguely, running her hands down his back to his firm ass, urging him closer. The only thing that mattered now was having him inside her.

 

"Jack," she pleaded, shifting her pelvis and tugging at his hips, urging him to complete what he'd started. He groaned and she thought she was going to have to do him serious harm when he raised himself up on his arms, her efforts to hold him close failing against his easy strength. "Jack, what--" she started, only to stop with a soft 'oomph' when he rolled to his back, pulling her astride his thighs.

 

"Better?" He smiled, his features tight with restrained passion.

 

"Much," she murmured, balancing herself with her hands braced on his broad shoulders. Now she could have what she wanted. Raising up on her knees, she ran her eyes lovingly over Jack. She was totally overwhelmed by the love shining out of his eyes as he looked up at her. Even though they had already shared in this most intimate of acts, their earlier lovemaking had been fraught with tension and despair--at least on her part. This time, well, even though she was wanted him just as desperately, there was no mindless urgency. She was fully aware of what she was doing and why she was doing it. And it wasn't for the forgetfulness that senseless passion could bring, it was for the love that bound her to this man. 

 

Leaning forward, she brushed his lips briefly with hers, evading his searching mouth with a breathless chuckle. Kissing was good, kissing him was very good; but the achy, hollow feeling inside her was growing and only one thing would satisfy it. Sitting back, she raked her nails down his chest, trailing one hand leisurely across his firm abdomen. She smiled when he sucked in his breath, her fingers edging ever closer to his straining erection. And then he groaned when she grasped him with one hand, gently massaging his rigid flesh. She sighed; it would be so nice to taste him, to love him the way he had loved her. But while that would be so very lovely, the ache inside her demanded to be filled. 

 

"Sam." His voice was harsh with need, and just that one word compelled her to action. Shifting forward, she raised up, straddling his hips. Her breath caught at the first brush of the blunt head of his penis against her soft folds; it felt so good she moved her hips just the slightest bit again. 

 

"Sam, please...." His voice was almost unrecognizable now, the hands that had been at her waist, steadying her, suddenly clenching fiercely. She knew she'd have bruises, but at this point, she really didn't care. 

 

"Love," she whispered, "help me."

 

His dark brown eyes flashed with fire and his right hand feathered across her abdomen, their hands meeting between her legs. Their fingers brushed together, parting her slick folds and guiding his rock hard penis to their mutual goal. Oh god, her eyes closed and she bit her lip, the sweet pressure as he slowly stretched and filled her sending currents of desire racing through her. Savoring each sensation, she gradually lowered herself onto his rigid length, moaning his name softly when he was fully sheathed within her silken depths. His hands were once more on her hips and she slowly let him take all her weight; her hands gripped his forearms tightly when he moved his pelvis, driving him even deeper.

 

Forcing her eyes open, Sam lost herself in her lover's deep brown eyes. She was drowning in their dark depths, sinking into the ecstasy that was flowing between them, their connection going deeper than just his flesh melded with hers. He was part of her, he had always been a part of her, she realized hazily; it had just taken her five years to understand the truth. The truth that as strong as she was, as smart and clever as she was and as complete as she was in herself, she was more complete with him. Time after time she'd been blind to the truth that whenever they were separated, they were weaker. Together, they could do anything, overcome anything--even find a way to let their love grow and thrive in their less than perfect world. 

 

Continuing to grip his arms, Sam rocked slowly against Jack, his strong hands steadying and guiding her. All she wanted at that moment was to bring her lover the same pleasure he had given her. To have him find not only the rapture, but also the contentment and peace of shared vulnerability. Her movements were slow and measured, each rotation of her hips against him subtly caressing his penis and caressing her sensitive flesh in return. Instinctively accelerating her rhythmic movements, Sam realized almost helplessly that the combined pressure of him within her and pressed so tightly against her, had already started the inevitable swells of release through her. Gasping his name; she was suddenly helpless and pleading for his help as she surrendered to his inescapable touch and let him once more guide her on the path to ecstasy. 

 

Sam barely heard his low growl, her focus narrowed to the clever fingers that trailed across her quivering belly, probing through her damp curls until they reached her still swollen bud. "Jack!" she whimpered again, her hips jerking against his hand, sobbing softly now with each measured movement of his fingers. The rhythm of her hips faltered while Jack continued stroking her, the pleasure growing from his caresses expanding and multiplying until she sagged against his chest. Rapture raced through her, his name a broken sob on her lips as her hips moved jerkily against his still caressing fingers. And while her earlier orgasm had been incredible, the added sensations of her internal muscles contracting around the penis still buried deep inside her only intensified the pleasure cascading through her. 

 

She shuddered endlessly in his arms, feeling sated and incredibly weak. Barely able to think, she hazily realized Jack's penis was still hard inside of her and she wondered how on earth she would ever have the energy to ensure his pleasure. She needn't have worried though, when his arms suddenly tightened around her and he murmured, "Hang on." Burying her face in his neck, Sam clutched tightly at his shoulders when he rolled, pinning her beneath him. As tired and satiated as she was, she still moaned raggedly as the sudden change of position forced him even deeper inside her. One sure hand ran down her thigh to her knee, coaxing her legs up and she shifted with him, wrapping her legs around his lean hips while he braced himself over her.

 

His eyes were almost black with passion, his gaze fierce as he started moving, thrusting heavily into her, each forceful movement pressing her into the soft mattress. Clutching at his arms, she moved with him as best she could, using her strong pelvic muscles to heighten his pleasure. And it was good and incredibly erotic, watching him, seeing it happen for him, as passion claimed him. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, a low rumble starting deep in his chest, his hips moving erratically against her until he cried out her name, burying himself deep with one final thrust. He collapsed on her, his hips jerking convulsively against hers as he emptied himself in her, the hot wash of his seed satisfying something deep and primitive inside of her. 

 

Cradling him in her arms, Sam held him, soothing him while his large body shuddered sporadically against hers. He was heavy, but she didn't care. He was hers; their lives so deeply intermeshed that she knew he'd always be a part of her--and her of him. She had already shown him that she would protect him, no matter what the cost. And now he knew she would love him, no matter what the cost. But just to be sure, she turned her head until her mouth brushed his ear. "I love you," she murmured.

 

He grunted, his arms tightening around her as he nestled deeper into her embrace. She smiled, leisurely stroking his hair, content with his nonverbal reply. The memory of his 'my love' from the night before, was already imbedded in her heart. He was a man of few words, but the ones he did say-he meant. It just remained to be seen how strong she could actually be, not only for him, but also for her...for both of them.

 

Slowly lowering her legs from around her lover, Sam pushed gently at one shoulder. He groaned, but shifted off her, immediately nestling back into her arms. Which was just perfect, she decided. He was warm and he held her so tenderly, she felt so protected and loved, but not crushed. She sighed, continuing with her idle caresses, content to let him rest a bit longer. So much had happened in such a short space of time, that she was afraid she was going to start feeling overwhelmed again. She loved Jack and like she had told him yesterday, she'd do anything for him. Which she supposed meant that she'd also give him up, if that's what he wanted. She didn't want to give him up; there had to be a way for her to have him and keep the job she loved. 

 

She almost laughed out loud when she realized what she was thinking! The job she loved? Since when could her job hold her, comfort her, keep her warm at night and kiss her like there was no tomorrow? Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as she was making it. When she thought about it in those terms, then there was no doubt as to what was more important—and it wasn't her job.

 

Jack moved, lifting his head and gazing intently at her. "You're thinking about how impossible this all is, aren't you?"

 

Sam smiled, not at all surprised by his insight. Besides which, he was partly right. Brushing gentle fingers through his hair she murmured, "No, I'm thinking about how surprisingly simple it all is."

 

His eyebrows rose. "Simple?"

 

She nodded, her expression suddenly serious. "I don't want to give this up, Jack." His eyes flashed with what looked suspiciously like hope, but he merely nodded. Encouraged, she continued. "Before all this happened, Hammond asked me if I would consider a temporary assignment." 

 

Jack frowned and sat up, prompting her to do the same. She could see him starting to lock down. Placing a suddenly trembling hand on his knee, she went on. "Doctor Mullavey—head of the mineralogy lab," she explained at his blank look, "is going on maternity leave soon. Hammond asked if I might consider filling in for her." Jack continued to sit silently and Sam started to lose hope, the sinking feeling returning in full force. "It would give us a chance..." she murmured, her hand falling from his knee. 

 

Without any warning, he swept her into his arms. Caught off guard, she lost her balance, falling against him and he rolled, trapping her beneath him. Held securely with his heavy body on hers, his large hands framed her face. And the look in his eyes? Well, she could die a happy woman now, just from the look of pure love and desire blazing in their dark brown depths. He took a deep breath and actually shuddered, and suddenly the enormity of what was happening between them hit her. To see that visceral show of emotion from him almost brought her to tears. 

 

"God, Sam..." his voice shook and she did feel the tears prick at her eyes. "I never imagined...." He paused, clearly struggling to answer and her heart went out to him. "I would never ask you to leave SG-1."

 

"I know," she reassured him. "You don't have to ask. What we have—what we can have—is more important than any job!"

 

His big body shuddered and Sam was abruptly crushed against him, his face buried against her throat. She held him, stroking his back, his shoulders, his hair, everywhere she could reach. Murmuring soft words of love and reassurance, she comforted him, overwhelmed herself by this show of emotion from her reticent lover. "Jack," she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his hair and whispering fiercely in his ear. "I love you and I will do whatever it takes to give us this chance."

 

Jack's arms closed strongly around her for a long moment and she held him tightly in return, cherishing the sweet intimacy of this unexpected vulnerability in her warrior. A fierce wave of protectiveness rose unbidden from within her. She thought she had understood her depth of feeling for this complex man, it was only now that she realized she hadn't had a clue then. And while it had been a given that she would die for him, it was only now that she knew she would live for him. 

 

He moved, pulling out of her arms, his easy strength defeating her efforts to hold him close. She looked up at him, unable to disguise—nor wanting to—the love shining out of her eyes. 

 

"I love you," he murmured, his voice rough with feeling.

 

If her life had one perfect moment, this would be it, she decided, the moment when the man she loved spoke those magic words. That Jack loved her, she had no doubt, with or without the words, it was evident in everything he did. And while it didn't really change anything, it satisfied something deep inside her, that he trusted her with the words. And she wasn’t afraid anymore, understanding for the first time that old adage, 'Perfect love casts out fear'. 

 

"Then nothing can stop us," she told her lover, pulling him back down into her loving embrace.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Epilog

 

Sam leaned against the side of the Quonset hut, shielding her eyes against the bright morning sun. She thought she heard the distant engines of the small plane; but couldn't see it yet. Sighing, she pulled her jacket a bit tighter. She really didn't want to leave the chalet, the time she'd had here with Jack had been an enchanted time she'd always keep close to her heart. During the last ten days they'd relaxed, hiked, done some sightseeing around the area and had dinner one evening with Luis and Josie—in other words, they'd behaved like a normal couple on vacation. And above it all, they had talked and shared and made love. 

 

Her lingering depression seemed to be fading, she felt stronger everyday. And thanks to the support and quiet faith of her lover, she was slowly rebuilding the self-confidence that had been shattered by her imprisonment. Any stray worries she might have had that their personalities were too disparate to mesh together, had been quickly put to rest during their days alone. They meshed as well in their private life as they did in their working life. Which was about to undergo a major change....

 

"Hey." Jack bounded up to the Quonset, kissing her briefly. "The plane should be here soon."

 

She gave him a half-hearted smile, feeling a bit better when he kissed her again. "I wish we didn't have to leave," she murmured, looping her arms around his waist and leaning against his chest.

 

Jack's arms tightened around her. "Having second thoughts?" 

 

She moved her head against chest. "No, never. It's just..."

 

His hands moved to her shoulders and he held her slightly away from him. "It's just that everything changes now, right?"

 

"Partly," she agreed. As for the rest of it, she wasn't sure she could put it into words without sounding hopelessly hokey. She finally settled for something that she hoped wouldn't sound too juvenile. "This place will always be special to me."

 

The smile that lit his face was tender, affectionate and smug. Damn the man, anyway. He seemed to have developed this special talent for seeing right through her. 

 

"We can come back here on our first anniversary," he drawled.

 

His smile was indulgent and Sam found she was elated, as well as horribly confused, by his enigmatic statement. The first anniversary of what? The first time they'd made love? Their first date? Their marriage? She liked the sound of all of those possibilities, but she also didn't want to jump to the wrong conclusion.... He just continued to grin at her and she quickly decided that she was definitely over-thinking. Grinning back at him, she figured it really didn't matter what the anniversary was, just as long as they were still together. "It's a deal."

 

THE END


End file.
